Oh! Sweet Irony
by Eatmykimchi
Summary: Irony has a major problem: LIFE. Life seems not to like her very much. Maybe even less than that grumpy blond elf. Still, she likes life, especially HERS. And she will do whatever it takes to survive: steal, lie, betray, kill, run away, sell her body, it's ALL okay with her, she gave up on honour long ago. She was never rich enough to afford being a good person, anyway.
1. Dying as a tied up salami

**Chapter one: Dying as a tied up salami**

**Hey! Yes I am starting a third story while I am juggling with two other unfinished ones...either I have too much time on my hands, or I am a magician, I don't know.**

**Anyway~ here's another Legomance, with a different Legolas an the different kind of OC. The story takes place during the last Hobbit movie that I just watched and disliked (seriously who the hell let Michael Bay possess Peter Jackson during the filming?) **

**It starts when Legolas and Tauriel leave together to spy on the orcs.**

**CAREFUL, this OC will overuse Irony and sarcasm. Also the story will be M at some point.**

**And I AM FRENCH, so yeah, there will be MISPELLS and GRAMMATICAL MISTAKES but you are welcomed to letting me know where they are (what chapter, ans what sentence) so I can correct them and make the story more readable ;)**

* * *

"The pretty one is opening her eyes." said Okra, the tall grey orc, "Done with your beauty sleep, elf?" he mocked as he took the blond elf's jaws between his thumb and index to raise his head and have a better look at his face.

The elf groaned, as he slowly came back to himself.

"The pretty one? I am offended." complained Irony crossing her arms and pursing her lips angrily. "It's not even a 'she' it's a 'he'! How is he the pretty one?!" she grounded. Okra laughed as he turned to look at her. Suddenly, he stopped laughing and released the elf's head.

"Why isn't he dead?!" grounded Jagah. Irony had not seen him arrive and did not react when he grabbed her arm tightly. "You should have killed him!" he screamed.

"I heard him talk to his friend, the red head-" she groaned as the big orc's hand tightened harder. "He spoke of Azog. I think he might be the one Azog wants to kill. Azog said he was blond."

Jagah released her at once and smiled widely. "You surprise me again, human. Good thing I kept you alive." He approached the prisoner and squatted in front of him, so that their face would be at the same level. "So you are the princeling?" he asked the prisoner.

While gesticulating to free himself the elf barked something in a language Irony did not understand. But the Erkor had tied the knots and that was the one thing the dumb orc knew how to do well.

"What did you do with his friend?" Jagah asked Irony. She had sat down and helped herself too some meat. Her arm was red, blue and violet where he had grabbed her, but she tried not to think about the pain. It's not like reproaching their leader, for hurting her would do any good to any one.

"Dead." she replied. The elf's eyes grew wide in shock, then glared at her with wild fires. "I killed her before I knocked this one out." She pointed at the elf. "He assumed I was her, I think, and didn't even turn around when I arrived form behind. Or maybe he didn't hear me come, I don't know." she lied. With Krog's help, she had lured both elves into 'saving' her, and convinced them to separate to cover more field. The blond elf didn't expect one second that she would hit his head hard with a large rock as soon as they were left alone together. After all, a few minutes before, she had helped them kill an orc who had seemed to be her enemy, not her ally. "But he killed Krog." she lied again before the elf could sell her skin. She gave the mortal blow to Krog out of nowhere. It wasn't part of their plan, but things weren't going as they planned: AKA the elves were stronger than they were, so she changed the plan into a better one. One that included her living to see another day, however miserable it might be. Jagah made said nothing.

The elf was still glaring daggers at her. She threw him a sarcastic smile and went back to her food.

"You cheated us!" accused the elf, furious. So furious in fact that his pale skin was red on his face. His sudden screaming startled her, making her drop her meat. Okra, Erkor and Jagah all laughed at her. She sighed and wondered if she would ever have decent company in her life.

"Lesson number one: never trust strangers, Lemglas." she told him happily. That was his name right? No? Close enough. His name sounded equally stupid as what she had just called him, so it didn't matter.

"We'll bring him to Azog when he is back from war." said Jagah as he moved to lay near Erkor, around the fire.

Irony wanted to ask why they weren't going to this war all orcs had been called to join. But she didn't dare to ask. Asking questions to Jagah was never a good idea. She had learned that the hard way. Nope. She was curious, but would rather keep her mouth shut so that her head would stay on her shoulders. She liked her head there, where it belonged. And she liked herself breathing and living too.

Plus, them being the only ones around gave her the opportunity she had been waiting for...She pretended to sleep and waited for the orcs to close there eyes too. It didn't take them long, the day had been long and colder than the ones before.

Erkor and Okra snored, Jagah didn't. She wasn't sure the leader was asleep and decided that it would be better to start by him then. If she was careful and fast enough, Jagah would die before he could fight back, unable to make any noise and the two others wouldn't wake. That was if the prisoner didn't sound the alert. Though, since Erkor had gagged him for fear he would keep them awake all night, the sound of his voice was swallowed by the dirty piece of clothing stuffed in his mouth.

She stood up slowly, examining carefully everyone's face. Apart from the blue eyed elf, no one was looking at her. Grinning, she flicked the bird at the elf, purely to unnerve him and enjoy watching him be unable to do anything.

Then she walked to Jagah, silently, and bent down, holding her breath so he wouldn't feel its warmth on his thick skin. She detached the dagger hanging from her belt and moved it carefully under his neck. Before taking the plunge, she looked at his face, _for the last time_, she told herself. His glowing yellow eye as soon as her eyes found his face. She wasn't sure how things happened after that but once she was fully aware of her body, her right hand was wet with a warm liquid and Jagah could not speak. She had opened his throat. With his hand, he grabbed feebly her bloody hand in which was held the bloody dagger and looked at her in the eyes. He could not speak but Irony understood what his eyes were telling her. "_You will pay." S_he could hear him say it in her head.

She found herself paralysed with fear until the orc's cruel smile calling for revenge disappeared and he ceased to breathe. His eyes didn't close though, and kept speaking to her about a vengeance soon to come.

The elf started gesticulating frantically. Irony supposed he was fearing for his life. But if he kept moving like this, Okra who was laying far from him would wake and _her_ life would be endangered. That, she couldn't let happen. She pointed the knife at elf to threaten him, and motioned for him to make no noise by raising her index in front of her mouth. Surprisingly, he did as she asked. Then again, he didn't have much of a choice. Either he shut up and bought himself sometime or she killed him right away.

She took a deep but quiet breath before making her way to Erkor who laid not so far from Jagah. It was a miracle the smell of fresh blood hadn't awakened him. She hurried to slit his throat and he died without even seeing his murderer's face. Okra she killed making sure that he would see her face. Four years, she had been more or less captive in this group, four years he had been nothing else but an ass to her. "Human, give me your cover"; "Human, carry that", "Human, kill them", and what she hated hearing more: "Human, why aren't you more attractive?". As if she had chosen to have a forever broken nose! _He _had broken it! Before it had been broken, she wasn't exactly beautiful... since then, she hadn't dared to look at her reflect! She imagined her face was ruined with fatigue, dirt, and an ugly nose!

After gaping for air that would not come, the last orc died. Irony's body relaxed and she smiled to herself. She was free. "Fina-fucking-ly!" she exclaimed feeling triumphant. How many times she had dreamed that moment would come and she would be free to go back to being nobody with other nobodies! Then she remembered the prisoner and growled. What was she supposed to do with him? His friend was probably looking for him by now...

She stood in front of him and smiled. He seemed to be more angry than scared. She would be full of rage too if she was to die tied up like a salami. She lowered herself towards him. His blue eyes trembled, and he tried to speak, but the gag ate his words. She took the piece of clothing out of his mouth so he could express himself.

"What type of person kills his friends?" he spat. She rolled her eyes and sighed. That blond elf seemed to be judgemental in addition to holding hollow grudges and being naive. She forced the gag back in his mouth, not wanting her moment of glory to be ruined by his mood.

"Lesson number two: don't ever trust any one, elf." she told him. She then placed the knife under his throat. Seemingly resigned to die with the little dignity he had left and his apparent huge ego, the elf closed his eyes and raised his head to give her better access.

_As if you were choosing for this to happen,_she thought wanting to slap him. She did not slap him though. Instead she cut the ropes that curled around his feet and hands to set him free.

He was so surprised he did not move for a while and kept the dirty rag in his mouth. Then his face distorted itself in a grimace and disgusted, he spat the tissue out of his mouth and coughed for a while.

"Why did you-"

"I have no business killing elves." she answered shrugging. She did kill, sometimes, when she had to, when her well being was on the stake, and for money, once or twice, but she wasn't much of a killer. She wasn't strong enough to fight orcs and strong men, but she was quick to react and smart enough to talk her way out of a death sentence. Bless the god who gave her a mouth to speak, and words to convince. Also, she was thankful for the vagina and the breast, even if she didn't have much of it, it was always useful to bargain."Also if Azog want you dead, I most definitely want you alive. Knowing that scum like him is displeased is what live for." she joked. She extended him a friendly hand that he reluctantly took before pulled hard on it, bringing her down to him. She heard "Never trust stranger, human." then everything went black.

When she opened her eyes, her hands were tied behind her back and her head hurt like a drunk bitch. "So much for freedom." she muttered before laughing at the irony of life.


	2. The sentimental value of my ASS

**The sentimental value of my Ass**

"Wow, wow, wow, wait," Irony cut Tauriel, who she found quite friendly despite the fact that she was pushing her with her foot every once in a while so she would walk faster. "You're telling me that they are five armies, fighting down there, that you two _want_ to go down there,_ and_ that the elves are fighting for jewels?JEWELS?!" Irony made sure to use her 'are you dumb' tone. It seemed to work for the blond elf possibly cursed, and the red head frowned.

"When you put it like that.." started the redhead looking at her prince for help finishing this sentence. The blond elf's face relaxed immediately when Tauriel's eyes met his. Irony did not fail to notice it. She did not fail to notice that it made the redhead uncomfortable either.

"The white gems we want have a significant sentimental value." offered Legolas, almost nicely, looking down at her, from the height of his horse.

"My ass has a significant sentimental value." started Irony, pulling hard on her ropes so that the elves would be forced to stop the horse, with success. "But it's not going to have any value at all soon, if I die in a war I have NO business taking part in." she growled, not caring about the glares she had earned herself. " Plus without me, you could gallop there, instead on making the horse walk by my side while you two mount it. You don't need me." she said looking at Tauriel who seemed more inclined to listen. "You don't like me." She told Legolas. " And I am slowing you down."

At that the elves exchanged a glance the best they could despite being one in front of the other on the horse. Then they started speaking in a tongue she could not understand. Or maybe they were singing? She didn't know, but since the elves went to war for necklaces and such, maybe they communicated by singing. As long as they set her free she didn't care.

But after what sounded like a song, the blond elf cursed again, in the common tongue this time, but with an accent so thick she could not understand the word, then got off the horse, grabbed her and put her on the beast, before jumping on it again.

"Greeeeaaaat." Irony sighed. "_Elves have no sense of logic._ And Tauriel, is not into you princeling."

She felt both of the elves stiffened at her comment, and Irony felt proud for making them uncomfortable. It was the least she could do, after all they were bringing her somewhere to die. She wished she had never never freed the elf. She could have been so far away from there, by now. But no, he was bringing her where the orcs were. Some might even recognise her. Hell.

"The logic behind your captivity, is that you must answer for your crimes." answered the prince. It startled her that the elf understood the dark speech.

"What crimes?" she yelled. "I saved your life!"

"After putting it in danger."

"I don't recall asking you to come and explore orcs infested lands!" she snapped. The blond elf angrily sang something to Tauriel, who then gagged Irony with a piece of clothe. She would have bitten the she-elf if she wasn't aware that it was the male one she angry at.

The road was long, painful and uncomfortable. But at least,s he was not half dead like the horse. Though, seeing the chaos in front of them she guessed she would soon be _fully_ dead.

The awkward couple led her through half destroyed buildings, in a haste, killing orcs on their way. Somehow, in the action, a sword undid her ties, and thanks to the orcs attracting all of the elves attention, she was able to escape. But she soon regretted her flee for she was unarmed, surrounded by foes and lost in labyrinth like buildings.

She looked left. One orc. She looked right. Two orcs. She looked in front of her, another orc. And behind her, she could feel a wall. And thankfully, the small hole in it. She didn't wait for the for the ugly creatures to jump on her to plunge through the tiny hole in the wall. It brought her directly in front of Legolas who was lowering some other blond elf's sword, that was pointed at Tauriel. Every one was angry and when they brought their eyes upon her, she wished she hadn't jumped through the hole. She wasn't sure why she was ceased, and her bracelet ripped of her arm and showed to the blond elf in full armour. He seemed grumpier that Legolas.

"How did you come upon this?" asked one of her captors.

"It was given to me. An orc, gave it to me." she lied. Every one eyes narrowed on her making her feel like a target's centre during a bow shooting practice. "Keep it, if you like it so much!" she exclaimed, suddenly feeling angry as well. "Just take it and let me go!" She struggled against the elves strong grips but they didn't flinch. So she pointed in a random direction and screamed as if she was dying. All the elves, including the ones who held her still, instinctively used both hands to grab their weapons.

She took off, after Tauriel who had also used the distraction to run away.

"Why did you leave?" murmured Irony, to Tauriel, while they hid behind a wall, to avoid the other elves.

"Why are you following me?"answered the she elf.

"Because being with you makes my chances of surviving _this_ higher. In case you haven't noticed, I am not a warrior with an unnatural strength! I don't even have a weapon to fight!" Tauriel shifted, annoyed at the sudden responsibility, but did not flee from it. Instead she grabbed Irony's hand and started running again.

* * *

_'Because being with you makes my chances of surviving this higher.'_ she remembered telling Tauriel about an hour ago. '_Never have I ever been so **wrong**.'_

"KILI!" screamed Tauriel between two kicks. "KILI!" Irony wanted to help the elf, but did not know how. She also wanted to keep on living and Tauriel screaming did not help with that since she attracted opponents by screaming. Opponents among which a huge one she recognise on the spot. "KILI!" Tauriel screamed again. _Okay, that's it,_ thought Irony, before discretely leaving the spot where she was standing and taking stairs that lead somewhere else. It was better that way. She could not help with the fighting anyway. No, really, it was better like this.

* * *

"TAURIEL!" shouted a dwarf between two punches. Irony cursed. How could she be so unlucky? Stumbling upon the only two people literally screaming for death to come to them. She cursed again when she saw a third orc launching himself at the dwarf, who she guessed was Kili. The dwarf had both his hands full already. She looked around. Ice. Ice. More Ice. Nothing else.

She sighed and ran as fast as she could, and when she was close enough, she let herself fell and the slide on the ice, to violently meet the running orc's legs, making him fall. Not loosing her temper, she stood quickly, grabbed the weapon the foul creature had let go of and clumsily tried to chop it's head off. Only, the first hit detached half of his neck from the body and the orc suffered during another long minute, before she could fully separate it's head from the rest.

When she turned, Kili had killed the others and stared at her questioningly.

"Tauriel-" Irony started, panting. She pointed the ice tunnel from which she had come from, "that way." she finished. The dwarf ran through it as fast as he could manage on his short legs. Irony stood there, amazed for a long moment. _A dwarf running to his death for an elf?_ She shook her head. And started walking in the opposite direction. She mustn't let herself be distracted, not now.

Then she heard it. A piercing female scream. Full of despair, and pain, and sadness. _Tauriel!_ Irony could turn back, she was still close enough...but she did not go back, and left any regret she could have had where on the ice she was standing. If Kili and Tauriel could not kill Azog, there was nothing she could. No need for her to die with them.

She ran. As fas as she could and as far as she could until there was no one around her. Or at least, no one who was still _alive_. The dead were numerous, scattered on the muddy ground and dirty with both dry and wet blood.

Irony inspected the cadavers. She found a dwarven sword that would fit her hand better than the huge orcish one she still held, she stole some elven jewels she planned on selling later to have some coins, and put on a large dirty rag taken from a dead orc to hide her face and body under.

Behind her, Dale was almost burnt to the ground, the armies were dying fast a the hands of one another and the sky was black with bats bigger than she was.

War was no place for her. She had, yet, to see the world and discovers its secret now that she was finally given another occasion to. She just hoped, this time, her luck would last longer than the last time.

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**Author's note:**

**AWWW. Writing this is killing my head x) I feel so bad for participating to the destruction of Middle Earth's history and characters...**

**ANYWAYYYY as you might have guessed by now, I am trying to write this fic _entirely_ from Irony's point of view. So basically what she doesn't know, understands, guesses, sees, hears, you don't either! And it is entirely possible that I try to send you off track through her eyes, by her misinterpreting or misunderstanding what is said/done in the future..or have I already started doing it? Guess you'll find out later :D**

**Also the updates will be random...I plan on posting as soon as I write so you may have three chapters in a row then nothing for a month or so. But I will write it to the end, no matter how long that takes!**


	3. Roasted Rangers

**Roasted Rangers**

"I could do things to you, no other women could." she murmured in the peasant's ear, so low, even the other women sitting in the carriage could not hear what she was saying. He was in his late thirties, uglier than a tic and dirtier than a pig's ass. _A woman must do what she must,_ Irony kept telling herself as she gently rubbed her body against his. "But, I could only do it all if you untie me. You see, the magic is to be done with my hands...and feet."

"Yo'r feet?!" he exclaimed, too loud for Irony's liking. But the man leading the carriage outside did no seem to have heard. "And what's it you'd do with those stinky two?" he asked looking at her feet. His accent was thick and the fact that he missed teeth was not making understanding him easier. Still, it wasn't the first time she had to deal with his kind.

"If I told you it wouldn't be magic any more, would it?" she told him smiling as seductively as she could despite the circumstances. Her wrists and ankles were burned where the ropes were tied; the carriage was so full that her and the other women meant to be sold as slaves or whores, sat on on another; there was no opening apart from the tightly shut door and since they were only let out once a day to do their water, some had pissed themselves, stinking the whole room with fear and urine.

The peasant seemed hesitant. He inspected her from head to toes. Especially toes, obviously trying to figure what she could do to him with her feet that would pleasure him so, as she claimed. He put a hand on one of her thighs and squeezed it a little as if to make sure she was one made of flesh and not one made of bones and skin.

"O'ly the feet then" he muttered, before finally, starting to undo her knots. She kept her cool on the outside, although, on the inside, she was panicking: she had counted on him to untie her hands too. "Show the sier them magic tricks of yo'rs then" he ordered.

Irony, spread her legs, being thankful that they hadn't forced her into a dress and was still wearing her pants. "Well, for it to work, you have to kneel, between my legs, and put each one of my thighs on each one of your shoulders."

The man growled unhappily. "This sier ain't eating no dirty hoe's cunt." he said pulling hard on her hair, making her groan.

"There will be no 'eating'." she promised. He released her, and only half convinced, he knelt between her legs. Irony swallowed hard, wandering if she actually had enough strength in her thighs to strangle him. Was that even possible?

"MOVE!" one of the men leading the carriage screamed, caching the kneeling peasant's attention. "We, merchants don't have all day for folks like yo'." Irony could not hear what the person who had stopped the carriage said, nor even see who it was. But she old herself that if she found out who they were, she would thank them warmly for the trouble they were causing made the man she wasn't sure she could kill stand up and leave he carriage, forgetting to close the door behind him, forgetting he had untied her feet.

As soon as she could not see him any more, Irony jumped out of the carriage and ran, ignoring the other women's calls for help. Their pleading and whining caused their captors to notice Irony was running away, and she could hear them shout at her to stop running. But she did not. She glanced behind to see how far from her they were, and reassured, she looked front again only to hit a hard tree. A tree with branches like arms that immobilized her. She opened her eyes and looked up.

"YOU!?" she shouted a the same time as the elf who was holding her. Lemghu-something. The grumpy blond one, who had a thing for the redhead who loved a dwarf, she had escaped from no more than a fortnights ago. A fortnights ago, and only four days before she was attacked, de-possessed of everything she had stolen and labelled as a soon to be whore. "SHIT!" she cursed. The elf was not looking at her friendlily. He wouldn't help.

"Ah!" exclaimed the peasant that had knelt between her legs. "Not so magic tho' feet of yo'rs, he?" He laughed. Then held his hand towards the elf to ask for his prisoner. Irony looked at the fair creature's face, with eyes full of fear. But his eyes were as cold as ice, and before she could beg him for help, he had thrown her in the almost toothless merchant's arms, and she was being dragged back to the carriage. _'Why would he help? I let the redhead and her dwarf die without even trying to help...'_

"DON'T DO IT FOR ME! DO IT FOR THE OTHERS!" she screamed at the blond male, who had turned and was walking away. He stopped. Then started walking again. Irony would have cried if the merchants wouldn't have found it satisfactory. Along with the elf, she could see her life as a free being walking away...and the raping and beating that would follow her attempt at fleeing.

The elf jumped in a tree and disappeared from her view. She bit her lips and tried to protect herself the best she could when she was being laid down forcefully in the carriage, before the peasant forced open her legs then fell. _Fell?!_ HE FELL?!

She sat up and looked at he man on the floor. Or rather at the corpse. An arrow pierced his skull, entering it in the exact centre of his forehead to come back out on the other side. He hadn't even had the time to be scared. But the four other certainly were scared now. And the captives too. And Irony too.

Irony stood searching for the new assailants but saw no one. The women were screaming and crying. She looked at them wanting to say something, but not knowing what danger they were facing, she just jumped in the carriage and closed the door behind her, foolishly hoping no one would think about looking inside despite the noise.

During a long moment she heard nothing but the three other merchants threatening the invisible danger then all of sudden nothing. No more sound. They weren't screaming any more. She could not even hear them move. She would have looked outside if she had been born brave, but she was born a coward, so she did not move.

Unexpectedly, the door shut open! She jumped back, too scared to scream, like all the other women. It took her long minutes to recognise the elf. By the time she had calmed down enough to regain control of her shaky body, he had already freed four of the other captives.

Irony made her way to him and held her hands in front of him for him to cut the ropes. As soon as his eyes reached her face, she felt the temperature go down.

"You will go last." he said, sounding angry, before pushing her to the side not too roughly, so that he others could come front.

He freed hem one by one, being careful not to hurt them, noticed Irony, and even generously comforted those who had lost half of their mind after their misadventures in the carriage and with the five men. And none of them waited for the others to leave, in any direction, seemingly not caring where they were going, nor if they were lost, as long as they could go far away from the carriage of misfortune and mistreatment.

When no one was left but her, she held her hands towards him again.

"No." he said. All of sudden, his warm smile was gone and the light of his face had grown dark again. "You stay tied up. I won't trust a woman who accept gifts from orcs and leave elves to die."

"Trust?" she exclaimed, jerking her head back. "You just killed five men. I can't even kill one!" she pointed out. "You can kill me as easily as I can crush cockroaches! What do you need to trust me for?!"

" You killed four strong grey orcs in front of me." he reminded her.

"Three of them were sleeping, and the fourth was too busy fighting you! Your welcome by the way for saving you from Azog by having freed you before he could put a hand on you, and for preventing your Tauriel from ever being caught Jagah." she threw a him. He didn't scare her. If he had wanted her dead, she would already be dead, she guessed. Also he might have been distant and disdainful, but he was no where near as frightening as the slave sellers, and as innocent as a virgin maid compared to Jagah.

"You must mean Bolg." he corrected. Irony rolled her eyes. _Azog, Bolg, they're all the same to me_. "You saved me from nothing, I killed Bolg myself." She saw a freezing fire burn in his eyes when he mentioned the orc. "And you left Tauriel and-" he stopped, but started again, fast "and the dwarf," the words sounded like they had a bitter taste in his mouth "to die." The elf put one of his strong hands around her neck and tightened his grip around it.

Irony did not even try to move, and instead glared a him. Fighting? What for? If he has changed his mind and wanted her dead now, he would have her dead, and she knew very well that whatever she could do, wouldn't be enough to change the fact that she was going to die.

As she looked at his grimacing face, she realised that although he was looking right back at her, he did not see her at all. He was just staring in her direction, a touch of cruelty in the blue of his eyes, and a lot of determination. But he eventually released her neck, allowing her to breathe.

"I am sorry she died." she exhaled. It was half a lie. She was sorry for the redhead, but on a personally, she couldn't care less. It's not like they had known each other. If she was given the choice to leave or try to save her again, Irony would abandon the she-elf twice faster, this time, hoping to arrive on the main road long before the merchants did, so that she would have had the time to think twice about what she was doing then. "But do me a favour, you want.." she started as she caught her breath, "Decide _now_ if you wan me dead or alive... I hate the wait.. and want nothing else than to leave..."

"Tauriel did not die." he offered, looking away. There was a moment of silence, during which the elf seemed thoughtful."You will live" he finally said.

"Wha-"

"The bracelet you had. It is a known elvish jewel. One that was given to a female mortal. I want you to take me where the orc who gave it to you found it."

Irony stared at him for while. _What?!WHAT?!WHAT?!WHAT?!_

"I have no idea were he found it. And actually, he never gave it to me...I sort of borrowed it... for an undetermined lapse of time... from his dead body..." The elf looked annoyed. She could see the muscles in his jaw contract with anger again. "But maybe, if you can tell me about the woman who had had it before- _maybe_ I heard of her from the orcs..." That seemed to calm him down a little.

"Her name is Gilraen."

He stared at er expectantly. She stared at him stupidly.

"Gilraen?" she asked after the long moment of uncomfortable staring. "You mean.. the dead King of Gondor's wife?" He nodded. "I heard she died too." she shrugged. He frowned. "Maybe she isn't dead- I don't know." she hurried to add. He cursed in his tongue. "What do you need her for?"

"Nothing." he spat. "You can leave." he said before turning to walk away. She watched him go. She wanted him to cut the roped that tied her wrists and made them bleed, but she wanted him gone even more. However he stopped and turned to her again. She would have grimaced, but she did not want him to change his mind about letting her live _and_ leave. " Have you ever heard the name Strider?"

"The grim ranger dude ?" she answered almost instinctively and immediately regretted saying. The elf came closer and pulled on the extra rope that linked her wrists so that she would stand.

"Where can he be found?." he asked authoritatively.

"I don-" she stopped. "I don't know if he will be there, but I heard he likes to rest at Bree between his 'ranging'." she lied. She had no idea where the man was. Nor had she ever seen him. She had only heard rumours about a grim ranger going by this name, who spoke a perfect elvish. Until now, she had thought the man wasn't real...Seriously, what human could be so acquainted to elves that he could speak their tongue? A made up one, that's who. But she wanted to go to Bree, where it was _safer_ than most other places and easier to earn bread and coins. But the long road was dangerous, and the elf was strong and she was not. '_He might be an ass, but he is an ass able to kick other asses, and avoid mine to be taken.' _

"Why Bree?" The fair creature sounded suspicious. She would have sighed but it would make her behaviour _more_ suspicious.

"It's far from any place where orcs dwell. And rangers don't like orcs. " she replied as naturally as she could. And she knew she was convincing. " Although...orcs like rangers quite a lot...once they have been roasted."

He grimaced, probably disgusted by the thought of eating human flesh. "Could your eyes recognize him?"

"Of course." – _If I had ever set them on him!_

* * *

**It's decided! This story is set right at the end of BOFA but is non canonical! And because of the movie I'll be changing some stuff from middle earth history for the sake of the fic but nothing that will make you go "OMG!Blasphemy!" I hope x)**


	4. Truth is a slut

**Truth is a slut**

Irony sighed and resolved herself to stop trying to undo her ties. The rope was thick, dry and strong and no matter how hard she tried to ruin it with hardened pieces of woods or her teeth, it was to no avail and the elf who's name she couldn't pronounce without giggling, and actually couldn't pronounce ignored her every time she asked him to free her wrists. Her wrists, by know were infected and around them, the blood was never dry for long for the rope was tight and rubbed the same spots over and over until the burning cuts reopened. Her saviour and captor believed the cuts were only bruises that would heal soon. But Irony could smell it get infected. And it wasn't a smell she fancied.

She trotted to catch up with the elf who's legs were long and moved quickly. "Why do you like me tied up so much ? It's not like I could outrun you..."

"There is no moment, in which I _like_ you." he said, not even bothering to look at her. "Every aspect of you disgust me." That time he made sure to throw her a disdainful glance.

"Ooh!" she screamed as if hurt badly, bringing both hands to her heart, "If I hadn't been unwashed for the past days I would have been offended. But since I am dirty beyond words and disgust myself for the time being, I will not answer to your provocation." She trotted a little more to walk ahead. She could feel his blue eyes piercing her skull. She knew elves were creature of light, of good nature, yet she could bet on her life that when the very day she will die, this one would come to dance merrily on her grave. She chuckled at the idea of Lemgonas dancing and wondered if he ever was merry. _Can he even smile? I bet he doesn't know the word!_

After a while of walking, in silence, and avoiding to turn back to look at the elf's ever frowning face he spoke, without having been asked a question first.

"Why did you leave her to die?" He stopped walking. "Left like a coward?... Even the dwarf stayed..."

"Because _**I **_was not in love with her." she answered immediately, not really caring. She had hoped they were done talking about that. "Nor with the dwarf." she added. "And also because I_ am_ a coward!" she exclaimed, stating the obvious. "What's _your_ excuse for not having been there?" Irony saw his eyes darken. With regret? She could not tell. "Could it be that you were waiting for the dwarf to die so you could make an entrance and save the damsel ?" She raised a brow, expecting an answer. Or a punch.

The elf said nothing for a while and just glared at her, waiting for an answer to come to him. "I was fighting for her not to be banished." he managed to mutter between his clenching teeth.

Irony laughed. "If you think that, you are lying to yourself." she told him. "'More like you were fighting for her _not_ to be able to leave with the short one." Once more the elf was silent and staring at her dangerously. She knew she had hit the truth. Whenever she found it, people made that face, the one that looked like denial and anger at the same time. Truth was always a slut, she knew. Truth covered you with sweet words and slept with others in your back before slipping arsenic in you food and drinks. "Don't glare at me, I saw the way you looked at her. You wanted her for yourself, and still do. It's written all over your pretty elf face, Lengomlas."

He walked past her, briskly. She could not see his face any more.

"It's Legolas." he corrected not looking at her.

"Laehgolas." she tried to say.

"Legolas." he repeated again, annoyed.

"Lengolas." she tried again and failed again. Though, she was almost certain that this time, she had pronounced it right.

"LE-GO-LAS" he yelled, turning to her. She could see he was still angry from the talk the had just had, and her massacring his name was not helping.

Irony shrugged."...Whatever...you haven't even bothered to ask _my_ name, why should I care about saying yours right?"

* * *

The night had fallen on them again. By now, Irony was almost certain they were lost. They had avoided the main road to stay off trouble, and dug into the forest. And it grew wilder with every step, and the trees were all the same. She had asked the elf if he knew where they were but he had ignored her then jumped up a tree and disappeared for a few minutes, to do elvish things she guessed. Maybe speak to a tree or eat a squirrel, who knows...

Now they had set camp, because she could not walk any more and needed to sleep. The elf didn't seem tired at all. And what she liked to think was 'camp' was her crawling under a tree's large roots, to hid, be hid and be difficult to reach while being able to see her surrounding. Legolas was just sitting on a branch, out for every one to see. He seemed to like it up there. Irony wondered if he would fell and break his neck if he slept up there. Did elves even slept? She had never seen him sleep so far. Maybe she just always fell asleep before he did and always woke up after he did.

"About Bolg," she said loud enough for him to hear, "did you make sure he was dead? Did you check the body?"

"I killed the filth with my own hands, with his own dagger." he spat. Irony noted that Bolg was yet _another_ sensitive subject. She wondered how she could have mistaken Bolg The Monstrous for Azog the Great White. They only looked alike in that they both had wanted her dead when Jagah had introduced her to other orc groups. "I cracked his skull with it, before the bridge scrambled down, under him." he added.

"So you did not check the body?" It sounded more like a statement than a question.

"I doubt there was a body left to be seen." He sounded almost amused. Or maybe it was pride she was hearing. From where she was she could not see him, nor him her, but she heard him switch position. "What is it to you ?" asked Legolas, threateningly. If she cracked a joke about being an orc lover, he would probably kill her on the spot.

"Rule n°3 elf: no _body_, no dead." she told him. Jagah 'the Wise Grey' had told her that. For an orc he had been smart and thoughtful. If she hadn't been knocked out like a green boy because she had broken rule n°4; _when you catch it, kill it_; she would have triple checked to make sure Jagah was really, really, really dead.

Legolas said nothing. And after not so long, Irony felt her body numb and her eyelids become heavier. The wind was generous and strangely warm, and the moss was thick and soft under her skin. When her eyes opened a last time to look at the beauty of the wild, she saw _feet_. A man's feet in ugly boots made of animals' dirty skins. The man didn't bend, so he did not see her and knew not she was there, but since he was walking slowly and carefully on his toes as if to not be heard, he must have seen Legolas.

_A friend would not walk like a cat, _she was certain of it. _So he must be a foe,_ she concluded. If the elf had seen him, he would have had him cornered already. Should she try to stop the man before he tried to strike or should she let him kill the elf? Irony bit her lips. She did not wish to interfere. This normally, wouldn't be a dilemma. Normally, she wouldn't hesitate a second to let her companion be murdered while she stayed hidden and safe, if her companion hadn't been an elf: that is to say a _guarantee_ of protection from everyone – _but himself_.

Still in deliberation with herself, she heard an arc be pulled. Decided at once, she grabbed one of the man's feet with her tied wrists and pulled it toward her, hard, making him loose his arrow before he could shoot it, but revealing her position.

The man bent, and before she could crawl out of under the tree the other way, he had grabbed the extra from the rope that bind her hands together and pulled on it, forcing her out of her hole in the ground.

He pulled her hair back, and she groaned in pain. But the next second the man was on the ground, and Legolas in front of her. Startled, she took a step back and stared at the elf in fear for a few seconds, before realising she was safe.

Leoglas grabbed the man's hair the same way he had grabbed hers. Except the man's feet were not touching the ground. Irony stared in shock at the elf's display of strength. She supposed it must have taken him a lot of self control not to crush her throat when she was in the carriage. Her neck was probably as easy to break as a hen's for him.

When she had taken a good look at the human, she realised he was one of the merchant. She had thought them all dead. But she hadn't checked. She should have checked.

"Why didn't you kill him the other day? Are you mad?!" she shouted. _Rule n°4: When you catch it you kill it. Catch it and kill it, it's simple! " _Once you hold the enemy, you finish him! You don't chat with him, you don't ask him questions, you don't listen to his begging, you just kill it or he comes back. Kill him,_ now_!"

Legolas furrowed both brows, not lessening his grip on the merchant he seemed to have recognized too.

"I don't kill _innocent_ men. He killed no one." he replied.

"Innocent?!" Irony laughed sarcastically " After their very first words, no one is innocent!" she told him, regaining her cool but still wanting the man to be turned into a corpse. "He raped some of the women too! All four of them did!" she insisted.

"Is this true?" dryly asked the elven prince to the slave seller. The elf's instinct seemed to have become one of a cold blooded murderer.

The merchant stopped his whining to speak. "Please, please.." he begged, crying, looking miserable and vulnerable. "I didn't...I didn't touch 'em. Good sier please..." he cried. Legolas looked at Irony again. But this time, with distrust in his eyes. He believed him over her

Her brows furrowed dangerously. She took the dagger from the hanging man's belt and pressed it against his neck. "Fine, _I_ will do it then."

"DON'T." warned the elf, as he put the man on the ground and brought a hand to one of his short swords. Irony stood no chance against him. She threw the dagger on the floor. The freed merchant turned to thank the elf who had lowered his guard. "Thank yo' good sier th' elf." he told legolas, holding the elf's eyes with misery on his face while he searched for something at his waist, in his back, with one hand. "The gods bless yo', they bless yo' I say-" The man could not say another word for Irony had put the extra rope from her ties around his neck, and was preventing him from breathing. Legolas took a quick step forward.

"Don't move!" she ordered, tightening the rope around the man's neck. The elf stopped net. "Take it out and drop it." she ordered the human.

" I don't know what the missy is speakin' off." he said. She looked at Legolas, then at the man's pants, where he still had is hand. The elf furrowed a brow, but forced the man's hand out from behind his back. He was holding a hunting knife. A very sharp one.

The merchant, still gasping for air laughed. "Yo' had me with that, soft breasts." he mocked. '_Soft breast'._ It made her cringe. " Yo' certainly ain't no maid no more, just as you ain't no killer. Yo' won't kill me." he added, obviously not feeling threatened. "You sh-AH" he screamed in pain. Irony lowered her eyes. The elf's short sword had cut its way inside the man's belly as if it had been butter, and rested there. The elf seemed horrified by the man. Even more than he had ever been disgusted by Irony. He took the blade out, and she let go of the merchant. The filth fell to the ground, whining in pain, curling his body and trying to stop the bleeding to no avail. "It don't matter if I die. They'll avenge me...the villagers, we told 'em... 'bout yo', fair headed demon..." He was looking straight in the elf's eyes but the creature of light did not seem to hear him. "They'll find yo'...they'll kill ..you...if the lad here don't before...ha ha ha h-" He died. Irony checked his pulse twice, then kicked the body until she felt satisfied with herself. When she had met the man for the first time, she was selling him two woman, but "_two ain't enough_" he had said before he had called his back up and had her thrown into the carriages with the others. But it was best to keep that part secret.

"I-"

" Oh, don't pity _me_," she cut the elf, amused, while he looked at her pained and still horrified by the thought that the man had _raped _her and others. Although, truth be told, the merchants touched her, but did not _rape_ her. But that too she did not need the elf to know. "No villagers are off after my head." she told him before crawling back under the tree.

When Irony woke up, her writs were untied.


	5. No one has fucking gold coins!

**No one has fucking gold coins!**

When the villager saw Irony, he held up his wooden spear and walked cautiously towards her. She did not bother to pretend she was scared this time. He was the fifth one Legolas and her were trapping. Of course, the elf wouldn't kill them...he just knocked them out and tied them up. Of course that didn't help them since the men were numerous, and patrolling to find the 'fair faced demon' day and night, slowing them down considerably. Because of this, and of her hands being free, Irony was seriously considering to ditch the elf. He was supposed to keep her away from harm, not attract villagers with spears and torches...

The villager grabbed her arm, not so nicely, while she just stared at him, bored, and before he could open his mouth to speak, the elf had jumped down from his tree and knocked him down. The human was in such a state of shock that he did not scream.

"You ought to be a better mummer than that. Otherwise they will not fall in the trap."

"That is no trap." she growled. Her stomach growled almost as loudly. She wanted some bread and well cooked meat to fill her stomach. "We should find the road. At least from there we will know our way."

"I thought we had agreed it would be too dangerous." he answered, while she searched the villager for food and coins. Legolas had opposed to that behaviour at first, when she stole from their first victims, then he had realised that every time he had forbidden her to take a man's belonging, she had taken it anyway, when he wasn't paying attention and had finally decided not to waste his breath on it any more. Irony was too good at sneaking; she was quieter than the wind and had good reflexes. Legolas had not dared to ask her where she had learned to hide, spy and steal better than a burglar. Actually, he had not dared to ask her anything since he had killed the merchant, and had been rather caring for her. She was not about to tell him that she hadn't been raped. Humiliated, certainly, but not raped. As long as he felt sorry for her, he would not glare at her, and would keep bringing her random plants for the healing of her wrists, and the soreness of her feet and she liked things that way.

"We agreed on nothing! You decided on your own!" she told him. "Staying in the forest is too dangerous too, now. So we might as well be in danger somewhere where we won't be lost."

"We aren't lost." he shot back, feeling insulted.

She grinned. "Look at this." she pointed at a mark on a tree. "I made it. We already came this way. _Twice_." The elf seemed embarrassed. "Face it elf, this forest is not your friend, it wants your bones." she laughed, and he grimaced.

"Then which way should we go?" he asked, defiantly. She raised a brow. And pointed in the opposite direction from which she had seen the birds fly and the squirrels run. The elf hit the man hard enough to knock him out this time, then went ahead in that direction, sulking, as she followed still grinning.

"I know my way in the forest the best. I ought to be an elf." she said, imitating his voice the best she could. He answered something in his tongue. She guessed it wasn't something all that nice by the sound f it. For a prince, he cursed a lot, she thought.

* * *

"I don't understand why they kept you alive." he said. He had a knack of saying things the _wrong_ way. Or was it that he actually meant the orcs should have killed her? "Doubtless you slowed them down." He looked at her up and down. "Plus, you can hardly defend yourself. You lack strength. You must have been an anchor."

" You may have not noticed, but I am _useful_." she answered. He raised a brow, and for a second, she could swear she had seen the hint of a smile on his lips. _Is he making fun of me, now?_ "I showed them how to avoid being sick by boiling their food or cooking the meat brown. I taught them that doing things for the good of the group and not for themselves, made it better and easier for them to live. I tended their wounds..." _I also lured people into their traps so they wouldn't eat me. That's why they kept me alive._

He put on a serious look. "Are you an orc sympathiser?"

"I am an _everyone_ and _everything_ sympathiser when I_ must_ be." she told him.

"Have you no shame, selling your soul at the first opportunity?" he reproached. She sighed. The grumpy and judgemental elf prince was back.

"Sorry I was born and raised as trash!" she snapped. "We don't all have the privilege to be princes nor delicate elves, you see. For the likes of me, shame comes too pricey."

His face closed, and the anger she had seen in his eyes when he had looked her during the first days came back. He grabbed her arm firmly, so she would stop walking and look at him in the eyes. He reminded her of Jagah for a second. Jagah grabbed her arm the same way when he was angry.

"And what do _you_ know of being royalty!?" he yelled. "What do _you_ know of the cost of immortality?!NOTHING!So-"

"Nothing, indeed," she cut, angrier that he was, but not showing it. " But I know that when you eat with silver forks, I beg for old bread, and while you stay strong and young effortlessly, I have to cling to life like a leech to a body and will have to keep doing so during my old days too." She freed herself from his grip. " I don't think you are the one who made a bad deal with life, _elf_."

Irony walked ahead, she could see the road, and did not wish to waste any more time chatting with someone who's sole problem in life was being rejected by a she-elf. What did he know about having it hard? Nothing. He was out in the wild _by choice_. She did not have a choice. If she had had a warm bed to go back to, she would be in it right now. But her parents were more likely dead by now...and even if they still lived, she did not wish to see them ever again. They had _sold_ her to man the very day after she had bled for the first time. She cursed. Who does that to an eleven years old girl? The worse was that she _knew_ they loved her. And that was the first lesson about life she had had: no matter their feelings, people put themselves first whatever happens. Be a nuisance, and you will be chewed up. Lower your guard and you will be stepped on. Trust, and you will be betrayed. Friends are only people using you 'nicely' for so long that their situation is comfortable, and their needs don't go against yours.

* * *

"Just don't let anyone see your face, and we will be fine." she told Legolas as she finished covering the top half of his head with her sirt's sleeves, that she had cut for that sole purpose. She only left his right eye uncovered so he could see. She would rather be caught for doing too much than not enough.

The elf pulled up his hood. " Why can't we sleep out in the wild?" He sounded like he _wanted_ to sleep down the ground. Or up a tree. _Again._

"Because they are wild wargs coming from the large plains and I don't fancy being eaten alive." she told him for the third time. "It's better you don't speak either, your accent is..somehow _inhuman_."

She couldn't see his face any more, but she guessed he had grimaced. She had made comments on his accent a few times, and he had never like them. He didn't like being reproached anything. He was very much like a child: he only had one feeling at a time, and that feeling was always more intense than it needed be. "I will do all the talking." She took off her one of her spoiled boots to search for the coins she had stolen from the villagers he had knocked out in the forest, and counted them. "We won't have enough for the food **and** the room..."

Legolas pulled out a purse from his pocket. " I have golden coins and rubies." he said opening the about to implode purse "We could buy the establishment if we wanted to."

Irony raise a brow at 'we'. _**You**__ could buy the establishment if __**you**__ wanted to, __**prince, **_she thought. She hurried to close the purse and put it back in his pocket. "Tonight, you can't lower that hood, you can't speak, and you _especially_ can't buy anything with this, let alone, take it out of your pocket ever again." she scolded. He seemed confused, then offended. "The word of an 'elf-demon' attacking people have spread all the way to this town! What we don't want is to raise suspicions and even the way you breathe is suspicious." she told him. "So _no_ gold. No one has fucking _gold_ coins in these regions. Certainly not random _wanderers_ like we are pretending to be, and certainly not that many." She frowned. "Where did you even get all that money?"

He shrugged. "My father gave it to me. He said I might need coins while I travel among the humans." The natural with which he spoke these words unnerved Irony. _As if people commonly walked around with a fortune like __**this one**__._

Irony shook her head. "Unbelievable!" she shouted. In that purse was more money than she had ever been close to in al of her life, and he thought nothing of it. _The elf has to go!He is too naïve, he'll get me killed!_ She decided that as soon as she could steal that money, she would flee from him. With all that gold she didn't need an elf guard, nor Bree's safety, she could buy herself a house, more than a hundred guards, some servants and do nothing for the rest of her life.

"How will we pay then?" he asked.

"I will find a way." She looked around the tiny dark street. They were plenty of drunk men, an ugly old dog, an even uglier old cat and an even uglier old whore. She would have to figure out something. " I will order food for you, pay for it, and leave you there to go earn some coins. _Don't_ get out of the tavern, _don't_ change table, and don-"

"Don't speak." he completed. "I am neither deaf nor dumb." he said, annoyed. She guessed he didn't like being treated like a child. But he _was_ a child in the world of human. Surely he was older than everyone who lived here in Greyrock, but he had never ventured in the human world before. He clearly did not realised he was a lamb among wolves with lamb costumes.

She punched his chest, wanting to hurt him a little, but only hurt her knuckles. "You're not so clever either since you still speak, you _mute_." she scolded. He did not answer and opened the tavern's door.


	6. The killer is a prude

**The prude killer**

"If you want my opinion those are stupid rumours from stupid villagers! The demons takes those fools!" growled Red, the man with a fantastic red moustache as he threw a coin on the table.

"Agreed." said the man sitting on Irony's right side, before laying his cards down, on the table. He was now out of the game. They were only three others left playing in the game. "Elves are no demons. They are fragile creatures of light. They are good and wouldn't hurt a warg if it had eaten their babe."

Irony burst out in laughters. The men looked at her with round eyes. "I have some."she started, "They are no fragile creatures, I swear!" she exclaimed amused. "They are no demon either, but they can be scary. They make no noise when they walk, one of them is as strong as ten grown men. And they are fast too." she told them, after throwing a coin on the table.

"Still, they die easily, I'm telling you, lad." said Red. " If you try to fuck one of them elf ladies, they die before you can get it up." he said. Everyone laughed. _That explains why the elf suddenly murdered the merchant, _thought Irony.

The man on her left threw a coin after having glanced at her suspiciously. She did not pay him much attention for she had already changed her cards with the ones she had hidden in her pants.

"Red tells the truth, little miss." said the man with a thick black beard. Irony raised a brow. "You can't force none of 'em to have you or they'll fall cold. I heard it's because they don't make babes like we do. Their babes don't pop out from between their woman's legs, but from pink flowers only they grow." He stroked his beard for a while, then laid his cards on the table. They were only two others players left.

"Their babes don't come out of flowers!" roared Red, from under his moustache. "They make 'em like we do! Only difference is, they only bed _one_ woman for the rest of their lives." The other men laughed. Irony puffed. "It's true! I know because the old book keeper told me. And the old man tells no lies." insisted the Red. The other men seemed to agree to that. Irony was not sure what to think, for she did not know who the old book keeper was. "The elves can't even get hard if they don't like the woman and she doesn't like them back." he added before laying his cards on the table. Only the man sitting at her left side was left in the game.

Grinning, Irony threw her two last coins on the table.

"You have a man's guts, missy!" exclaimed the man on her left. He only had three teeth left, and Irony feared he would spit one on her if he spoke too much. "You better be sure about your move, because if you owe me, I will see that you repay me one way or another." he warned.

"_You_ will owe _me_." she assured him. The man did not make the suspense last. He followed with two coins, meaning that it was time for Irony to reveal her cards. She threw her them on the table, her smile going from one ear to the other. She had two aces, a joker. Every one gasped. The man on her left cursed and angrily threw his cards on the table. He had two kings and an ace. They were good cards, but not good enough compared to Irony's.

"What women want, the gods want, or so my wife says." laughed Red. When he spoke his moustache seemed to have a life on its own and danced. "Well played, missy." he complimented. She was already gathering the coins to put them in her pockets. After that last game, she had won enough for a few nights at the inn, meals included, and a little extra in case of unexpected fees. "You cheat better than any man at this table, even if drunk. If you played poker, I bet you could make a fortune."

"I could. Or I could loose a hand for cheating is not allowed in other card games." she told him. Her pants felt heavy because of the coins filling her pockets. "Well, I thank y'all for the good time." she said smiling. "Red, you better hope your wife is right and she wants you rich, 'cause you don't have enough money left to buy her wine so that she can forget how bad a husband you are, tonight." she teased.

The man laughed out loud. "The wife won't be happy, that's for sure!" He laughed some more. "And what has your _husband_ done for you to have drunk a whole bottle tonight?"

"The wine made me forget!" she exclaimed happily, before leaving the poorly lighted room.

* * *

Irony could not believe it. She had left him alone here for what? Two hours, three? And he was flirting already! The maid he was talking to was a woman grown, but a very young one. No more than seventeen. Her face was still childishly round. Her cheeks were a healthy pink, her eyes were green like rubies, her skin whiter than white and her lips were plump, red, and ready to be kissed.

Still unseen by the elf despite having spilled someone's ale, Irony stood in the dark and stared at them for long enough to notice their interaction had a repetitive pattern: Legolas said something, the young woman giggled, bat her eyelids a few times then answered something, and the elf smiled politely before talking again. Irony felt a hint of jealousy grow in her belly. Being beautiful and young really made things easier didn't it? _When you are __**pleasant**__ to look at, people are __**pleasant**__ with you._ She brought a hand to her crooked nose and sighed thinking of her upcoming fourth-and-twenty birthday. She was old already according to peasants.

Legolas took the possibly seventeen years old's hand and kissed it. The girl's face turned red and she could not stop herself from smiling like an idiot. Irony squinted an eye. C_ould he attract any more attention to himself?Every one is looking at them!_

The girl bent down and tried to kiss the elf. On the lips or on the cheek, Irony did not know, but whichever it was, the elf did not want it to happen. He jerked back as if the maid had turned into an orc. Irony laughed out loud then decided it was time to interfere, so that the elf would not hurt the maid's feelings too much, with one of his boring and perfectly learned speech about honour or something of the kind.

"Time to leave, child." she told the younger woman, standing straight, making herself taller than she truly was. She was slightly taller than the younger woman. The girl frowned and glared at her a little. Legolas sat still, in silence. "Well, go on then!Shoo!" exclaimed Irony. "They are lots of other men willing to look under your skirts!" Holding her tongue with difficulty, the girl walked away. Irony took a few seconds to enjoy her small victory over the more attractive maid, then turned to the elf, brows furrowed. "Do you know what being_ mute_ means, or did I have to explain it to you?"

"It was a harmless conversation." He claimed. "She doesn't know what I am."

Irony pushed the elf so she could sit where he was, in front of his half eaten meal, gone cold. "Because she was as bland as dumb!" She told him before helping herself to his vegetables, not bothering to use the fork. "Did you really have to back off as if she had turned into a monster?" she asked, curious. Irony wouldn't have liked being rejected so by a man.

"She tried to kiss me."said the elf, flustered. Irony stared at him both brows raised, remembering what the man with the red moustache had said about elves. They were 'pure' and couldn't 'get it up' without feelings, was that it? She had thought it was rubbish, but maybe it was true.

"It would only have been a kiss." she told him.

He frowned."It never is _just_ a kiss." he contested. He looked at her, judging her again so she decided the only logical reaction to his behaviour was to reach forward and press her lips against his. To her surprise, he did not jerk back like he had done earlier. But she could feel his eyes pierce her skin as though he was piercing through her with ice pikes, and jaw muscles stiffen. The kiss lasted less than a seconds but felt like an eternity in a cold hell.

"Why did you do that?" he asked, outraged as soon as his mouth was free from hers. "You shouldn't have-!"

"I expected you to shriek and back off like a little girl again!" she threw back before he could grow angrier and finish his sentence. " I didn't know you would let me come _that_ close." she replied. "Kissing you was never my intention, I just wanted to tease you a little." she told him, not really caring about the matter any more."It was just a kiss." she added when she noticed he wasn't calming down.

"It _never_ is _just_ a kiss." he repeated. "_Every_ kiss is meaningful and unique. Kissing another being should not be taken so lightly."

Unable to take him seriously on that, Irony grinned. "And I thought I was a prude because I did not wish to let a man take me from behind." _One would never think killing a man is easier than kissing a maid, for some people._

Legolas did not laugh. His backward smile grew clumsily then face red with anger, he stood to leave. "I will ask for a room. You will pay when you are done eating. You have found the money, haven't you?"

She nodded more focused on the food than on what he was saying, then he left.

* * *

**Don't mind the updates, I was just rectifying a few sentences's spelling and grammar .**


	7. The wine be damned!

**The wine be damned!**

"Wake up!" said the voice, not so softly, painfully waking Irony up.

"Why?" she whined with a hoarse voice. " Why are you doing this to me?!" She turned under her sheets, to face the wall. But the window was open and the sun attacked her face, making her squint both eyes. "Why?" she whined again. "Why is the sun so cruel?!" she whined covering her face with the pillow.

"The sun is never cruel. It is light almost as bright as the imperishable flame and warmth almost as comforting as a mother's womb." said Legolas. Irony grimaced, wishing the sound of his voice did not bang so hard against her brain at every vowel. And at every consonant. And wishing he could make sense." You must have had too much too drink last night."

_You think?! s_he thought, but did not say. Her head felt like she had tried to put alcohol out of business. She closed her eyes again, and heard the elf walk to the other side of the room. "Why did you wake me up? We have plenty of time..." she muttered, hating every second of being awake at the moment. She reopened her eyes and tossed the pillow aside. The elf was looking through the pants she had been wearing since– she realised she wasn't wearing them right now. Her thighs were almost bare; she still had a pair of tights on. "Why are you searching my pants?"

"You did not pay the inn keeper, last night. He is at the door, waiting for his money. He wants it now. Are the coins in the..._improvised_ pocket sewed in the inside?" He sounded judgemental again. But she had to admit the pocket had been badly sewed.

At the mention of the secret pocket, Irony tried to stand but her left foot was caught in her sheets and she fell off the bed, head first. "_The light be damned!_" she cursed in orcish. Legolas turned to her, sighed, shook his head in disapproval, then turned to search the pants again."DON'T!" she shouted. He turned to her again. "Don't look inside the pocket!" she forbade. "I remember paying the inn keeper last night. Send him off!"

"You can't remember that," he started, furrowing a brow. "because it did not happen. He had me come down, last night, so that I could bring you up here. You caused an infernal commotion because of your drunkenness. " he told her. He paused. "Now, what is it that needs to be hidden in a secret pocket?"

"Then the money must beeeee-" Irony sighed. "I don't know where I left it." she rolled over, to lay on her back, deciding that her head hurt too much to stand. "Just...give him one of your gold coins. And tell him that if he keeps his mouth shut about us having money, he'll be given another gold coin. Also, tell him to buy us horses. We'll need horses when we leave." she said. She realised her hair smelled like long bottom leaves smoke and puke. She needed a bath. A nice _warm_ needed bath.

"What's in the pocket?" insisted the elf, holding the pants. Irony could hear suspicions in his voice. He was right to be suspecting she was hiding something. But it was absolutely none of his business. Or maybe it was? _It_ had been taken from an elf's bones, after all. Maybe he had known him. Maybe the elf had been a _her_.

"Isn't the inn keeper at the door?" she asked trying to change the subject again. She did not want him to know she had _it_ before she had found out what powers so great _it_ had, for Azog to have had sent Bolg along with Jagah and their orcs to look for it. She remembered how scared she had been when she had found _it_. _It_ felt _magic_. And everything magic, she mostly disliked. Yet, she had been quick to hide it in her boot. She had suspected Jagah had known she had found _it_, but had said nothing hoping that with time, the other great orcs would forget about its existence and then he would take _it_ from her and keep it for himself.

Legolas plunged his hand in the pocket under Irony's fish round eyes. "NO!" she shouted. But it was too late.

The elf turned the pocket inside out."There is nothing in it." he said, looking at her as if she was stupid. Irony's heart started to beat faster and faster, and so hard in her chest that itfelt painful.

"It cannot be-" she exhaled finally standing up. She took the pants out of Legolas' hand and searched it thoroughly. "No" she said. "No, no, no, no, no! It can't be empty! It can't!" She threw the item of clothing on the floor and and looked at Legolas. "Where is it?"

"Where is _what_?"

"The-" she did not finish her sentence, realising the elf would have asked questions about _it_ if he had taken it. And realising she knew as much what the object use was than she knew what it was called. _Where is my shiny black globe?! "_Just..._s_omething that was precious to me." she answered. She tried hard to remember the previous night. It was a cloudy mess.

"_The wine be damned!_"

* * *

"Woman, wake up!" called Legolas's voice for the second time today. Irony's head hurt less now, but she still lacked sleep. "Wake up!" he called again. Irony rolled to the other side of the best, as if his arm could not reach her there, and decided to ignore him, despite the weird tone of his voice. If he sounded worried or just agitated, she could not tell. "There is blood on your sheets." he said. Her eyes shot open and she sat abruptly to search for the blood, startling the elf in the process. Legolas pointed at a relatively small red stain that was still fresh. "Are you hurt?"

At first she was confused, but soon enough, Irony thought about what might be happening. She removed the cover from over her and looked at between her legs. Her tights were soiled with fresh blood too at the apex of her legs. "Shit." she cursed. When she raised her head, Legolas's face was paler than a babe's ass. "'tis nothing." she started, lazily. It did not seem to reassure him the least. She got out of the bed. "I'll go ask for clean cloths and clean sheets." she said taking off the tights to put her pants on, not caring if the elf was looking at her bare buttocks or not._ Likely he is not peeping, _she thought_. _When she turned, she found he had in fact, not been watching. _How predictable._

"Why are you bleeding?" he asked her. He did not show much on his face, but Irony recognised confusion when it stared at her with so much intensity.

"Because I am a woman grown." she answered even more confused. _What kind of question was that? _She wondered.

"Are you telling me the bleeding... blood coming from... you maidenhood... is normal?"

"It is." she confirmed. He seemed a bit disgusted by that, but she could not blame him; there was nothing glamorous about having blood coming out of your junk. "Don't she-elves bleed once a month when they are grown?"

"No." he said shaking his head. Irony could have bet her life on the fact that the elf was thanking the gods in his head, right now, for she-elves did not suffer from the same monthly affliction human women suffered from.

"Well, all human woman do." she told him. "It means we are ready to be bedded and to bear children." she explained. _Yet, __**I**__ can't have children. _Irony remembered that she had whored for time, after she had fled her home. She had liked it for she had been the youngest of the whores in the brothel, and therefore the most popular, what had given her her the right to choose her clients. Laying with any of them had been a hundred times better than laying with the man her parents had sold her to. None of those men had ever forced themselves onto her, nor put her with child, bringing her to the conclusion, that she could _not_ be impregnated.

"May you bring healthy children to life one day, then." said the elf. Irony rolled her eyes. She knew that to be an empty courtesy. Probably one of those things people leaving at court must say to please women.

"No, thank you. I want no damn brat in my belly." she said, opening the door.

"Good." answered Legolas. He sounded almost relieved. "I don't mean to offend, but I think you are not fit to be a mother."

"And you lack _tact_, pointy-ears." she spat bitterly before leaving the room. If she had not noticed the inn keeper was keeping an eye on her, probably because the elf had asked him to do so when she was too drunk to notice, Irony would have fled _now_. The elf might be a good warrior, but he was getting on her nerves too often. Perhaps it was because she was not used to his kind of company. After all, going from spending your days with orcs from spending them with an elven prince was quite a change. She sighed_._ _Rule number 13_, she reminded herself, trying to calm down, _don't let anyone affect you. And if they do affect you, don't let anyone see it._

* * *

(Legolas POV)

The woman slammed the door behind her. Legolas suspected he had, yet again, somehow offended her. He wondered if he should be less direct when talking to her, and to humans in general, for it seemed hearing complete honesty was not at their taste most of the time. Maybe he should apologize about telling her she would be wise to deny what the gods had graced her sex with, and never bring a child to life, for she did not act as someone fit to raise one.

He thought about it some more. Then decided telling his mind was best, for the orc-lady never missed an opportunity to speak her mind to him. With others, she kept quiet. He wondered if by telling him what she thought, she meant to show him respect, or, to annoy him. He concluded that although people usually gave their opinion in the hope to help, or make a friend, she did it to annoy him, and dared to do so because he did not frighten her _any more_.

_We have spent too much time in each other's company. She knows I mean her no harm,_ he thought before remembering he had almost strangled her the second time they had met. He wrapped a hand around his neck. _Guilt_. Guilt was stuck down his throat for that foolish action. Seeing that human again, unexpectedly, had brought too many painful memories at the same time. All the memories he had wished to wash away by _leaving_ home.

He took a deep breath and laid down, careful not lie on the blood stain. There was only one bed in room, for he needn't sleep, and since the woman was not here, he could allow himself to get comfortable for a little while.

All in all, the human was not so bad, he tried to convince himself. Yes, she was impolite, not exactly gracious or caring about anything at all, but she was smart. He had learned a few things from her already. Things among which he wished he could forget that mortal human maidenhood bled once a month. For the rest, he now knew humans were not as fragile as he had first thought, and that they were very resourceful. _Very resourceful, indeed, _he reminded himself as he re-winded, in his head, the way the orc-lady had duped him and Tauriel, then, betrayed the orcs she served. He jumped to feet. _She could be fleeing by a window, right now. Or have already duped the inn keeper and left by the main door!_

Legolas rushed to the door, opened it and-...found the orc-lady in clean clothes standing right outside the room, a hand in the air, still wondering where the doorknob had gone.

She raised a brow at him. She seemed to think he had gone mad for e had opened the door violently. "I think there is too much going on in that pretty head of yours, elf." she told him with that smug smile of hers, before stepping inside, and throwing the clean sheets she had brought with her on the bed. She spoke on that tone all the time; she sounded like she _knew_ everything that was going on in everyone's mind, and that even before the people to who the thoughts belonged could think them. It scared him sometimes how she _knew_ how people she had never met before would react to certain things. Like the inn-keeper, this morning. How did she know the man would not grow greedy and bring strong men to rip them of their gold?

Legolas closed the door and turned to find the woman was all on her four, on the dusty floor, looking for something. He sighed. _She is looking for that 'precious something' again. _

"I believe you have already searched the whole room for your..._lost_ object. It is not in this room."he assured her. She ignored him. "We should leave. The inn-keeper must have had horses readied for us by now."

"I'd kiss you again sooner that I would leave this place without my _thing!_" She did not bother to look at him. And Legolas was glad for that, for he had grimaced despite himself at the thought of the kiss. That kiss had made him most uncomfortable. '_Every kiss means something. Every kiss is unique. Every kiss is a beginning. ' _his father had told him. _A beginning to what,_ _Ada? The human might be right. Some kisses mean naught._

"May I ask what it is you are looking for?" _Maybe I can help, _he thought. Helping her find her thing could make up for having offended her earlier. Also, the sooner they found the object, the sooner they would leave, reach Bree, and find strider.

"Nothing." she answered looking bewildered. It made him wonder if she even knew what she was looking for. That confirmed to him that he had no reason to be curious about what the object was. It couldn't be important if she could not even remember what it was.

"Since there is _nothing_ to look for, I suggest we leave then."

* * *

**As I was going through the first chapters yesterday I realised seeing Legolas only through Irony's eyes might give you the wrong idea about him. So I added a small part from his point of view in this chapter to give the character more depth and make it clear that has not gone cruel to end because he is on meth or something. **

Also thank you for all the lovely reviews! Know that I read them all carefully ;)


	8. Moonfaced clairvoyant

**The blind clairvoyant**

"You _owe_ me this." affirmed Legolas. Irony knew she owed him this. She owed him this for he had agreed to stay in Greyrock for a fortnights so to see if they could find the man who had handed her to the elf when she was drunk. She suspected _that_ _man_ had stolen her shiny globe.

"You saved me, I saved you. I owe you _nothing_." replied Irony unnerved. Knowing she had been stolen so easily from made her furious! Also, two days had already passed, and Mudbucket people had come in town to start a wild market, and among that many people, the chances that Legolas and his keen eyes recognized any one were thin, if non existent. "If anything, _you_ owe me for making me stay with you by force." _You owe me for making me break rule number 7: After the third day, keep them away. And I should have remembered that before your shit: you not killing the slave sellers, starts rubbing all over my face! _

The word of the 'elf demon' had spread fast, and had now been caught up by another rumour. It was said that a wicked witch who lived under trees' roots walked with the demon elf. Irony had had to cut her hair as short as a man's, and to flatten what little breasts she had with an old cloth to look more like a young man and less like the witch people spoke of.

"I don't see chains around your wrists." he told her on the same growling tone.

Irony stopped walking, and because the street was crowded, a man making his way hit her with his shoulder by inadvertence. She thought his face was familiar, but he had left as fast as he had come, and she could not place him, so she turned back to Legolas.

"Only because you cut them a fortnights ago." she offered along with a forced smile.

"As proof that I trusted your good will." he insisted. He had told her that before. She hadn't believed him then, and she did not believe him now. By the way he sometimes discretely glanced at her when he thought she wasn't paying attention, she suspected he wished her hands were still tied together. A tied up woman could not do much DEGAT, even if she had an axe.

"Trust?" she repeated, jerking her head back. "Is that why you keep an eye on me constantly, follow me wherever I go, listen to my conversations with people? Because you _trust_ me?" She smiled unpleasantly.

Legolasl said nothing and she heard his teeth clench together. But, he did not grab her arm violently like he had done a few times before, and like Jagah used to do. The elf had stopped doing that after he had seen that it bruised her badly. Her arms were still violet and yellow like piss from the last time he had grabbed her that way, days ago. "Besides, we need to have a look at those horses the inn keeper bought to make sure they are fit for the road. And we have to buy provisions too." _And a weapon, for me. But I won't tell you that."_We don't have time for those... _shenanigans_." She started walking again. When she realised he hadn't moved from where he was standing, she turned to him.

"Please." he insisted. He sounded like a wounded cat. "I very much desire to see her."

Irony's mouth dropped open. He was adorable. But she could not allow herself to comply to all of his senseless requests just because of his sad puppy face. Feeling irritated, she closed her eyes and sighed. "What do you want with a clairvoyant?"

"Hear her words." He sounded really excited. As if the fortune teller he spoke of would say something incredible. "I heard from Harra that this one is the wisest. And I have never seen a human with the gift of sight, before."

"Harra?" repeated Irony, not having listened to anything after the name. She blinked a few times. "Who's that?" she grounded. "Do you _still_ speak to random people although I forbade you to?" she asked. He had talked to random people. Following what a sketchy man spent a night at in the inn, in _their_ room, despite her protests. _'He needs shelter for only one night'_ the elf had told her, before leaving to do _elf things_, she had supposed. And as soon as he had left, the man in need of shelter had pressed a knife against her belly, claimed her boots, belt and the ring she wore. "You will get _me_ in trouble! AGAIN!" she reproached, readjusting the sleeves of her old shirt wrapped around his face, under his pulled up hood, making sure his ears were still well hidden.

He pushed her hands away, as if she had a rare, contagious disease. He hated it when Irony touched him. And because of that, she used every excuse she could to touch him.

"You oft forget that you are my _prisoner_, woman, and not my road companion. You will not speak to me on that tone again." he told her, sounding like the prince she thought belonged only in a castle and not in Greyrock. "Harra is the fair maid, with green eyes, you called a harlot when you were so inebriated you tried to force your tongue in my mouth,-"

"There was no tongue involved." she argued, although, she could not say for sure she hadn't actually tried to make out with him. That whole night was still all too blurry.

Legolas paid her interruption no mind, and kept going."You told a man to stop being a pussy-cat when he told you, you had had too much to drink. And you lost all of our coppers," _A pussy-cat?! You got me wrong elf!_She thought without showing her amusement. "And sang so badly the inn keeper had to call me down to carry you away."

He kept remind her about all the attention _she_ had gotten them that night every time he could. "Clairvoyants are frauds." she started changing the subject.

"Harra assured-"

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Of course, a sixteen years old waitress knows clairvoyants better than I do because her cheekbones are higher than mine!" She smirked, hoping the elf would get the sarcasm. Still she would not be surprised in the case he didn't understand it at all.

"Actually, the entirety of her face is fairer." he corrected. He smirked back at her. She punched his chest. It triggered no reaction from him. "Your knuckles will be needing tending if you insist on doing this." He said that to mock her and not as a show of worry, Irony thought. He took her still closed fist and looked at it. "They already are red." he noted, raising a brow.

She snapped her hand off his. "Clairvoyants all are charlatans who use naïve fools, _like you_, to earn their bread. I would know, because I pretended to be one, for a time." she told him, calmly. The elf's brows furrowed. _One more thing you can add to the long list of things I've done you disapprove of_. "You should not believe _all_ of what people say. People _lie_. _All_ the time." she warned him.

" It seems to me _you_ take absolutely all you hear for lies." he told her, coldly.

" Only because it takes the truth to fool me, not long legs and a pair of teats."

* * *

The incense smelled of mystery and cinnamon and the orange-red light coming from the only candle in the room made even Legolas look like he could foretell what was to come. The fat blind woman's face was as old, round and as scarred as the moon and seemed to ready to roll down the dusty folds of her neck at any time. Her hair was covered with a kerchief and on her ears emerald encrusted jewels, that Irony was convinced were fake, hung like dead men.

The room was full of scary statuettes, human bones, pearls, parchments, and suspicious potions even Irony would not drink for all the gold and silver in the world. On the table they sat at, only a feather and an inkwell laid.

Irony felt uncomfortable here and hated that the elf had given the fraud two silver coins to hear her tell made up stories.

"First, who?" asked the old woman, with a thickest accent than the elf's, without looking at anything with her white irises. Legolas looked at Irony, with shining eyes. Irony shook her head, uninterested. "Elf hand." said the mooned face woman before either one of them could say a thing. Irony's jaw fell open in shock. How could she know he was an elf when she was blind? And even if she hadn't been blind, all she could have seen would be _one_ of his eyes and his mouth? Legolas gasped happily. "Give hand, now, prince." asked the foreteller. The elf complied faster than he climbed up trees.

Supposing the clairvoyant had just made another lucky guess, Irony sighed and rested her head on her hand, bored, while the old lady inspected the fair creature's hand with her wrinkled sausage-like fingers and started to mutter things in a probably made up language.

The fortune-teller's voice became louder and louder and suddenly changed completely, sounding like one of a demon of old. Her, until now, empty irises now reflected the blue of the elf's eyes. Behind her stood blurry shadows that seemed to have a will of their own. Irony noticed Legolas had put on a serious look, and his free hand was wrapped tightly around one of his weapons' shaft, ready to slay the clairvoyant at any sign of aggressiveness. He also seemed unable to acknowledge anything else than the clairvoyant.

When Irony looked at the moon-faced woman again. The fortune-teller wasn't old any more, but young and gorgeous, with an ebony dark skin thick as expensive leather, full pink lips and almond shaped eyes.

_This is some kind of dark magic_. Irony's muscles stiffened. She wanted to stand up and leave, but something kept her still on the chair. And that something was not fear, she knew. That something didn't come from her, but from an outer force that prevented her from moving.

The leather skinned woman's right hand let go of the elf's hand to grab the feather and sink it in the dark black ink, while her left hand flattened his palm on the table. She began to write on Legolas's white skin. Then she released the elf, ant turned to Irony. Her eyes turned as dark and brown as Irony's, reflecting until the small black birth mark she had in one eye. "Your turn, little dream." she told Irony. _Little dream...I have been called that before..._

To Irony's dismay, her hand moved as if it had come to life, to land in the clairvoyant's. The black woman spoke the strange sounding words again, until her voice changed again, and she started writing on Irony's hand with the feather, the same way she had done on Legolas's hand. Irony could almost see spirits whisper in the woman's ear. She did not dare to look at the other woman's face, but raised her eyes when the mysterious lady suddenly stopped talking. Black blood was coming out of her mouth. Irony stood up with fright, snapping her hand out the fortune teller's.

She was now aware of her surrounding again. The wooden cabin's back wall was destroyed and half of the roof had collapsed with it. Everywhere, people were screaming, fighting, running in every directions. _How could I not have noticed all this before?_

She looked in front of her again. The fortune-teller's forehead was on the table. Looking at the clairvoyant's hands, Irony guessed at the sight of the wrinkled fingers, that she had become old and ugly again. It seemed that she had died of piece of wood planted in the back of her head. It had probably been projected there when the wooden wall was demolished.

"We must go." said Legolas after having knocked out an hysteric man who had come in. Two others laid on the floor, by the elf's feet. "I know not what is happening, but this place is not safe any more."


	9. A young man with swollen lips

**A young man with swollen lips**

_If I had had his purse, this chaos would have been ideal to run away_.

While running, Irony tripped on someone who must have had fallen then died from being stomped on, but managed to stand almost as soon as she had met the floor, then kept on pursuing the sandy blond man, not worried about the elf not being behind her any more. He had probably been caught fighting some of the orcs who were raiding the town.

_What was his name again? Where do I know him from? It's been such a long time..._ "WAIT!"she screamed at him. But he did not wait. He turned into a smaller street on the left. Irony pushed and kicked every person on her way, not caring if anyone got hurt in the process. This man she could not remember had her black globe. She was certain of it. He had it. _He has it. He must have seen me drunk in the tavern and took advantage of my drunkenness to steal from me...if only I could place him._

She turned into the same street..._SHIT!_ An orc had killed the sandy blond haired man. No, the man still moved. But would probably die soon judging by how much blood came out of his chest.

The orc didn't bother to search him. He had seen _her_ and a prey who could still fight and scream was far more interesting than gold to his kind. Plus, gold did not have legs to run away.

Irony reached for whatever weapon was tied at her hip by habit, but found none. The first time they met, Legolas had taken the dagger she had had when she was with Jagah, after that, the slave sellers had taken the dwarvish sword she had stolen from a corpse and since then, the elf had opposed to her having a weapon. '_I do not wish for my throat to be slit open while I look the other way._' he had told her.

She felt like an ant about to be crushed. She regretted not having waited for the elf. _He_ would have already killed the orc by now.

The beast launched himself at her, and she avoided him by jumping to the side. She tried to run away through the other end of the street, but the filth had long arms, and caught her before she could flee.

"Argh-" She coughed when she received a punch in the stomach. She fell to her knees and the orc knocked her head against the closest brick wall, hard enough to blur her vision and disorient her, but not so hard she would pass out.

Now too weak, Irony let her body fall to the ground. Once she was laying on the dirty ground, the beast grabbed her head with his big red blood dirty hand and pulled her head back a little so he could have a good look at her face. She spit blood on the floor.

"_I knew I had seen a black dot in that right eye of yours. Could this be my lucky day?_" he said. Irony shivered. He knew about her birth mark in the eye, which meant he had been told about it, which meant _someone_ was looking for her.

The orc let go of her head then squatted to pull her shirt up a little and look at her back. He traced the two inches long scar she had about the middle bottom part of her back with a rough dry finger. "_It is my lucky day! You have both marks! You **are** the human-orc whore." _

"_Jagah?" _she managed to say as she stood, helping herself with the wall because her legs were still shaking. She was not half orcish, but after having stayed with the orcs for years, they had started calling her that. 'They' being the orcs who did not know her, and the humans who had heard about a woman who helped orcs kill her own kin.

"_Don't pretend with me, cunt! We both know you killed Jagah."_ He pulled her to him and held her face firmly between his thumb and his index, to look at her in the eyes. "_I don't know what the master wants you for. He cared not about Jagah. You must have something precious to him." _He smirked. "_Give it to me. Give me what he wants._"

"_I don't know what you're talking about._" she replied, not so dryly.

He released her only to punch her in the stomach again. The pain made her bend in half as she held her belly where it hurt. She noticed the bulge on the orc's left boot. _There is a dagger there, _she realised. She looked up to him grinning and flicked the bird at him. He laughed out loud, joined his hands together and hit her back hard, making her fall on her four. Now, she could try to grab the weapon without it being too obvious, she just had to be careful.

"_What is it you have, Bolg wants?_" he asked, looking down at her.

The sandy blond haired man laying a few meters away coughed, catching the orc's attention: the filth turned to look at dying man.

_Perfect!_ Irony gently wrapped her fingers around the weapon and delicately but quickly slipped it out of the shoe. The orc did not seem to have felt anything.

The best gave Irony a not so nice kick on the side then walked to the sandy blond haired man. She bit dust this time, but managed to hide the thin blade from the creature's view.

"_You're holding on tight to your misery, worm._" he told the man, as he touched the bleeding man's face with a foot.

Irony gathered her strengths and stood up as fast as she could, making as little noise as possible. What noises she made, the orc could not hear for it was covered by the cries of pain and screams of fear coming from the main street.

On her toes, she walked like a cat in the orc's back, and once she was so close she could feel the warmth of his body, she stopped breathing so that he wouldn't feel her breath on his skin.

"_You catch me in a good mood, I have found the girl. So I will be merciful and chop your head off fast!" _he told the blond man. The orc raised his ugly sharp sword high with both hands, but before he could do as he intended, Irony did what she did best: she cut his jugular open. His black blood poured abundantly and the orc fell heavily, causing dust to fly off the ground.

Irony let herself fall on her knees, not waiting to catch her breath to start searching the almost dead human for her globe.

"Little dream," the man with sandy blond hair started, with a feeble and hoarse voice. He sounded like birds were pecking at his flesh. Then again, he had a massive bloody gash going from a shoulder to the opposite side's hip. "I told Aren..." he said, smirking unpleasantly. _Aren?I know this name...but I can't give a face to it any more, it's been too long...it's been about eleven years... _Irony pretended not to be listening, and let go of his shirt, to search his pants. "...G-...Guill will know...soon enough..." he breathed.

Irony froze at the name. Guill was one name she could not forget to who's face it belonged. Guill was the one had nicknamed her 'little dream'. "You are done for...he'll look for you...he'll find you...he'll-" Not wanting to hear any more, Irony slit the man's throat.

_Bad habits die hard,_ she told herself. She had heard enough unpleasant things for the day. Bolg was alive because the elf had done a _terrible_ job at killing him, and the orc now wanted her head along with the mysterious globe. _And_ Guill, the first person she had ever deliberately betrayed and who, understandably, had wanted her head on a spike since then, now knew she still lived and would come looking for her soon enough...

"_The light be damned!_" she cursed. Maybe she should have stayed with Jagah! At least then, neither Guill nor Bolg were after her.

She let loud a satisfied gasped when she found the dark sphere in one of the sandy haired man's shoo. The black and ever so shiny globe was no more enrolled in old cloths. Irony cut a piece of the dead man's shirt that was not soaked with blood yet, and used it to pick the globe up, without entering in direct contact with the sphere. She had found it carefully enrolled, and not knowing what the thing's power was, she decided it best to never touch it directly.

She quickly hid it in the bands that flattened her breasts, where Legolas would not find it even if he searched through her stuff gain. Her shirts were large, so no suspicious bulge could be seen.

She shook the shoo some more, wondering if had her money hid there too, but only a square yellow paper fell from it. She unfolded it. It was a portrait. A portrait of the man she had just killed with woman. The woman she recognize on the spot.

"Tilis" she said shocked. Tilis had had had her hands on the wrong thing, at the wrong moment, causing her death. "Then you must be Amos." She stared at the cold body. It did look like Tilis's twin, Amos. Only with twelve more years than the last time she had seen him and a more marked jaw. " 'Guess you had found the truth behind your sister's death since you seemed to hate me more than Guill..."

Irony sighed. She stood up. She sighed again, and decided to leave her worries with Amos' corpse. After all Aren was very likely dead, killed by an orc in the chaos. And even if he weren't dead, she would leave Greyrock as soon as she found Legolas, so Guill would never know where she went. And neither would Bolg.

She hid the dagger in her boots like the orc had, and took his ugly sword to defend herself if needed in the next few minutes. She did not thought she would need it though, because she planned on climbing up a wall and walk on the roofs until she found the elf. No one ever looked **up **for some reason, so she should be safe up there.

* * *

Legolas, who was no longer hiding his face, came out of the half broken stables.

"It's empty of people, come in." he told her. Irony rushed inside. The orcs weren't done sacking the town and a human with nothing to loose is the most dangerous creature that could be, so she did not wish to wait outside for either one to find her.

" Don't approach any of them." Legolas told her. The only live horses left were restless and kicking back and forth at everything in that stood in their way. "I'll calm one down and bring him to you." said Legolas.

Irony furrowed a brow. She wondered if the elf was right in his head. _A mad horse is a dangerous beast_, she thought. But the elf seemed not to share her point of view for he walked to them nonchalantly. He murmured in his singing language to a tall brown animal that had already been saddled and the animal ceased his kicking as the elf came closer to him. Legolas caressed the horse a little then handed its reins to Irony. "Here."

Irony clumsily took the reins and ignoring the pain in her body from the very recent beating by the orc, she mounted the animal.

The elf repeated whatever he had sang to the great brown horse to a great tall black one without saddle then climbed on top of the beast easily. Irony guessed riding without saddle was another _elf thing_. Kind of like climbing up trees, wanting to sleep under the stars, enjoying to sit on high places, being extremely judgemental, and keeping their hair impeccably braided no matter the situation.

"Let's go! Before they find us and kill us." Irony told Legolas who was taking his sweet time, sympathizing with his newly stolen horse.

"It's not us they want," he replied sitting straight. " They are looking for a woman with a scar on her lower back." he added. "Not an elf and a strangely feminine young man, with a black eye and swollen lips." His lips curled up a little. Irony noted that Legolas was probably used to speaking to other warriors, and not commoner human women. If she had been Harra, the almond shaped eyed waitress, she would not have found _that_ funny but insulting. But she was not Harra. Irony smiled a little.

"One never feels more alive than after having escaped death, still feeling the pain from doing so." she answered. She had never been so glad be able to joke with someone before. It must have had to do with the fact that the elf was not so unpredictable as orcs were, and would not kill her if she said something silly. It also had to do with the fact that against the odds, she had escaped death, yet again.

"Truer words were never said." he agreed chuckling.

Irony inspected him. He had a few cuts, but nothing too deep. Apart from that, he was as immaculate as ever. There was no dry black blood on him like there was on her clothes. There was no dirt of any sort on him at all. But his looks did not matter. What was on the opportunist's mind, was how much did the elf know about the woman with a scar on her back. She waited a little while, until they were far from the now burning Greyrock to speak of the matter again, so that she would not arise any suspicion.

"How did you know the orcs were looking for someone and not just sacking a village because they could?" she managed to place in a hollow conversation.

"I 'asked' an orc." he answered. "But truth be told, scar in the back or not, orcs will kill both us if they find us." _You don't have to tell **me**_, though Irony. "Therefore, so soon as you are done eating, we ride again. You can sleep tomorrow night, not before."

Irony jumped back on the horse.

"Better yet, let's keep going now. I can eat while I ride."


	10. Gods would not waste that cock

**The gods wouldn't waste that cock**

"Does your back still pain you?" asked the elf as he took his boots off. Irony had not told him that she had been hit in the back. But since she shifted uncomfortably every now and then on the horse and had not laid on her back since then, she was only half surprised the elf had guessed it hurt.

"Terribly so." she replied getting off her horse. _Ibey_, she had named the beast. It meant _twin_ in her mother tongue, only spoken by a handful of people from _Bucketdeep,_ the village from which she came from.

Legolas had told her not to tie the horses to a tree. He had said that since they treated the beats well, the animals would not run away. And he was right, the horses had stayed with them so far. By now, she was convince he understood the horses, and they, him.

"Did it happen when I lost you in the crowd?" he asked, taking his leaf-green tunic off. He folded it carefully and put it near his boots, before sitting on the grass, facing the lake in front of which they had chosen to halt for the day, and the night. They were far enough from Greyrock, by now, and even if the orcs had left the town for the next one, it would take them a fortnights before they could catch up with them, since the dark creatures could not walk by day when the sun was too high, and the weather had been more than generous the past few days.

"Lost in the crowd?" She raised a brow. _What is he talking about? _Irony removed the saddle from Ibey, so the horse could feel free.

"Yes," he turned to her. "When you fell in the crowd and was stepped on, in Greyrock, during the raid." he cleared. The fact that he thought it strange that he had to remind all this to Irony was obvious.

"Ooooooh!" she exclaimed, suddenly remembering her lie. She had judged too risky to tell him she had had to confront an orc, so that she could reach for her precious mysterious globe. If she had told him that, he would certainly have taken the possibly magical object from her, and kept it for himself. Or maybe he would not have cared. Who knew with that elf... "Yes, it happened then." she confirmed before sitting by his side. _Rule n°6:_ _Either lie well or not at all, _she reminded herself._ Lies truly cheat on everyone: the liar and the person lied to. _

She grabbed on of his hands and brought it where she had been hit on the back so he could feel the hard bump through the fabric of her clothes. His eyes opened wide once his fingers felt the area.

"It is swollen _and_ hard." he said, surprised. He sounded as though he had never seen such a thing before.

"It is swollen, hard, _and _violet and black like a rotting corpse." she told him as she released his hand. He immediately removed it from her body. She wondered if not liking to touch others and not liking to be touched by others was another _elf thing_ or if it was just that he thought her dirty. If it were the case, she could not hold that against him: she _was_ dirty, _and_ smelly _again_. "You, on the other hand, seem to have already healed completely from your wounds." She looked at him, squinting both eyes as if it would allow her to see better. It did not make her see any better, but she noticed the white under-shirt he wore was see through when when the wind made the branches move and let the sunbeams shine on him. She rolled her eyes. He was perfectly built, as expected of an elf.

"Elves heal faster than other beings." He laid down.

"Yet you sulk every time I remind you how lucky you are to be elven." she complained. Being of the First born truly sounded great: long life, incredibly resistant bodies, no time wasted on sleeping, natural beauty and cleanliness, fast healing..._All they have to do in life is be idle and not worry._

"Elves can die of broken hearts. " he said a little bit aggressively, as if to prove to her being elven wasn't as great as it sounded. It was the first time he had mentioned that information. Irony furrowed a brow and shook her head to let him understand _that_ did not sound so bad. "Hearts are fragile and irreplaceable." he insisted.

"You still live," she puffed. She stretched then laid down too, but on her belly, so that she would not awaken the pain in her back. "So either you do not know what being heart broken means or you don't love Tauriel as much as you think you do."

She felt him stiffen. He hid in his invisible shell, making the air go cold, like every other time either Tauriel or her dwarf were mentioned. But the fact that he did not get angry was an improvement. She guessed he was finally getting over the she-elf.

Irony wondered if the dwarf had truly died. After all, Legolas had let her think Tauriel had died, for a time, before informing her the she-elf was much alive. Maybe the elf wanted her to think the red head's tiny lover was dead because he _wished_ the dwarf was cold, stiff and still. She wondered why elves and dwarves hated each other. They were different, but so were humans and elves, and yet she was at peace with the prince.

The elf shifted position and closed his eyes as if he was about to sleep.

"You speak as though you know of love." he told her making sure that she understood that what he truly meant was that she knew _nothing_ of love.

"Maybe I do know of love."

He opened his eyes to look at her with disbelief. He raised brow. "Did you ever love?" he asked her.

"I did." she confirmed. She looked away for a few seconds, recalling that time, so long ago, during another life, when she had been just another commoner, with friends and a family. "Too many times, truth be told." she added, thinking of Guill, and the three others after him. "It is vastly overrated if you want my opinion."

The prince shifted position to face her. He seemed genuinely interested in the subject."Were you ever loved back?" he asked.

"I was." She smiled. "For a while." she added, failing to feel completely unconcerned.

"It did not last?" insisted the elf, curious.

"Love.."she started, "Is like money," She paused a second, thinking. "It never lasts because you consume all you have as fast as it comes. And it's hard to come by too. That's why everyone wants it so badly."

"_You_ look for money but not for love." he said. It did not sound like a reproach but like a fact.

She knew he disapproved of her attitude towards coins, but he had it all wrong.

"It's not coins I want. It's what I can buy _with it_." she explained. " And that makes all the difference." Love she could not buy and was against the rules of survival she had made from experience. Love made you irrational; being irrational made you dead; and being dead...well, being dead made you _dead_.

"What is it that you wish to buy so fiercely?"

She smiled at his curiosity. "Peace!" she exclaimed, enjoying the gentle breeze and the sun's warmth on her face. "Tranquillity!" she added. "Calm and all the likes!"

"If I had to believe one out of all the things you have told me so far, that would be it." he told her.

Irony frowned in silence. After all this time, he was still searching for lies in what she said. Eventually her lips curled into a discreet smile. _At least you have learned a thing or two from me._

* * *

Legolas had left about two hours ago to look for berries and hopefully _meat_ too. _A nice __**fat**__ rabbit would be nice_, thought Irony as she folded the bottom of her pants to dip her feet in the cool water. It felt amazing around her toes. She bent to wash her arms and refresh her face, and gasped at all the dirt that washed away in the water.

"You should bath. It would clean your wounds and help them heal faster."

She turned alerted by the voice. Legolas. With wild berries and _more_ wild berries._ Dam elf who makes no noise when he walks and eats no meat!_ "You should also wash your clothes," he started, putting the berries on his folded leaf-green tunic. "They stink more than you do." he mocked with an almost shy smile.

"And walk around butt naked?" she snapped. "Pervert!" she called him, grinning.

"Elves do not associate nudity to sexuality." he told her, sounding offended by the accusation.

She hesitated to believe him. "If not a naked body, what turns you elves on, then?" she asked. "Trees?!"she mocked. "Those _damned_ berries?!"

"Only the person we love. And only _if_ they desire us the way we do them." he said, tasting a big round blood red berry, then shrugged as though the answer had been obvious. The berry seemed to implode and its juice spread all over the startled elf's hands.

Irony laughed out loud. She laughed so much her abs hurt, and she lacked air, causing her to loose balance and to fall fully clothed in the clear water. Legolas was the one laughing now. Irony hurried to get out of the water.

She sighed, hating that she would have to keep her clothes on even if they were wet, so that she wouldn't have to stay completely naked for a long time, in front of the male elf, out in the wild for every passer by to see. Still, she took the first layer of clothes off and laid them flat in the sun, keeping her under-shirt and tights on. Her grey under-shirt was half see through because of the water, but she did not care. She still had the bands hiding her breasts, and the globe.

When she looked at the blond elf again, _he_ was naked, folding his trousers neatly. She stared, unsure she was not hallucinating.

"_By the Dark One!_ WHAT are you doing?" she asked him.

"Folding my clothes." he stated the obvious. "I want to swim." He cared not if she was looking at his manhood, and if he did, he hid his embarrassment too well for Irony to see it. He had an undoubtedly flawless body. Skin pale as a newborn's and smooth too, well drawn muscles, strong legs, and a generously proportioned sex. _And he doesn't even use it...They truly are no gods! If they were, they would not have wasted that cock on an elf!_

Legolas put his trousers near his tunic then walked to the lake. _And that ass! _Irony slapped herself mentally. _What am I thinking?! _

When the water covered him up to the waist, he turned to her. "You should join me. You need a bath more than I do, and the water feels great." he assured her.

He wasn't wrong. Washing off the horse smell and the crass to be clean, even if just for a day or two, would be amazing. The elf, she didn't mind for he would not pay her any attention, but being butt naked when anyone could walk by...

Legolas must have felt her discomfort for he spoke again. "I know what a female naked body looks like, you have nothing to be ashamed of. The designs of Eru all are perfect the way they are, the way they were meant to be."

Irony ignored him, not knowing who Eru was and what design the elf was speaking of. She wondered when would be the next time she would have water that clean to bath in? Also, there were as many chances that someone came by than there were chances that _no one_ came by. She sighed. _I am already soaked._

Reluctantly, but determined, Irony took her under-shirt off. The elf was too busy enjoying being in the water to pay her any attention. She quickly and discretely dug a small whole in the ground in which she buried the globe, before laying her under-shirt on top of it. Then she took off the rest of her clothes and trying to hide her lady parts the best she could with her hands, she ran as fas as she could in the water, until the it covered her shoulders.

The elf had gone swimming further away. Irony did not know how to swim, so she focused on cleaning herself.

When she rubbed her left hand with the right one, she noticed that some stubborn dirt would not go off. She took a closer look at it. It wasn't dirt. It was ink. And it must have been magical for there was no getting rid of it. Irony realised it was what the fortune-teller had written on her hand. She hadn't read it because she did not know how to read. She had not expected that the ink would stay on her skin for weeks. She frowned her brows and stared at the writing trying to decipher it, but to no avail.

"The human life fears time." read the elf's voice, from over her shoulder. "Thus, shall thou run slower than the past, thy past will–– will _what_ ?"

"She probably died before she could finish writing." she answered, disappointed. Then she realised how close to her the naked elf was to her, and shrieked. She had bad memories about males approaching her naked without her knowledge, and wished not for it to reproduce itself again.

Legolas furrowed a brow and raised the other, not understanding why she was putting more distance than was necessary between them, but respected her choice.

"What does yours say?" she asked him, calming down.

He did not look at his hand. "When the vice is strong, the gods keep careful eyes. Shall thou take vice's hand, thou will find thy self between irony's thighs. But shall thou stay true, the gods will provide." he said. Irony's eyes opened wide. "Is something wrong?"

She ignored the question. She took his left hand and searched for markings but found nothing on it, so she took the right one. But there was no ink on it as well. "Why did you wash it off?" she asked annoyed.

"It faded by itself, seconds after I read it." he told her. She looked at her hand; the letters had already almost disappeared. But the words were stuck in her mind. Those of Legolas's prediction even more so. "What is it to you?"

She ignored his question again. "Was 'irony' written with a capital letter?" she asked him. She could not read, but she knew how to write _her name_. And it was written with a capital "I".

He frowned, not liking to be ignored twice. Then seemed thoughtful. "I can't recall. But I don't see why she would have written 'irony' with a capital letter." He looked at her expectantly. _You'd know __**why**__ if you had bothered asking my name instead of calling me 'orc-lady'. _"You look awfully agitated by those predictions for someone who believe clairvoyants are a fraud."

Irony couldn't help but laugh out loud. "You would be agitated too if you knew _half_ of what your prediction means." _You'd have a heart attack, elf! But such a thing is very unlikely to happen. I don't know what vice will hold its hand to you, but I am sure as the sun sets that you won't take it. _

"You understand _my_ prediction?" he exclaimed taking a step forward, eager to know more about it.

"I said I understood _half_ of it...well...I think I understand half of it." she hesitated. "But it could as well be something completely different. We cannot know until it happens." She laughed a little. "You will find yourself between Irony's legs' is the part you want to watch our for." She laughed some more. Legolas stared at her a few seconds seeing she was amused by something, and seemingly thinking she had gone mad.

"Swim with me. They are fishes of all sorts in the deep of the lake. I am sure even you could enjoy such beauty." he said once her laughter had subsided. He was smiling, _for once_. He sounded almost as excited about showing her fishes than he had sounded when he had asked to see the clairvoyant.

"I can't swim." she told him. He seemed surprise. She guessed elves probably all knew how to swim. "I was never taught. Water is too precious from where I come from to be swam in."

"Would you care to learn ?"

"Err-" she stopped. "What do- why do you- are you serious?" she asked him. "Or do you plan on drowning me?" she asked taking a few steps back in apprehension.

" You are my best chance at finding strider. I will not drown you." he told her before holding his hand out to her. He was one of the rare persons who despite having been cold and unpleasant, and sometimes angry at her, was never violent nor abusive nor disrespectful to her. He had been too rough for her liking, once or twice, but never cruel. And now he was offering to teach her how to swim? Had he forgotten he was her captor, and not her friend? More importantly could she trust him?

"You can trust me." he said as thought he had heard what she had been thinking.

After a long hesitation she took his hand, and let him lead her towards the middle of the lake. At some point, her feet could not touch the bottom any more and she sank like a rock. Thankfully, the elf noticed and pulled her up so she could breathe. When she emerged, she was coughing water and panicked at the idea of dying breathing water in. The elf pulled her to him, so that he could keep her head out of the water more easily, but all Irony could think about from the moment she was pressed against him, was her naked nipples against his torso.

Remembering traumatising past events, she crossed her legs as if to protect her sex and closed her arms around her breasts. "Don't hold me against you!" she yelled. The elf immediately straighten his arms, so that their bodies would not be touching. "_The light be damned_! Bring me back to the border!" she ordered.

He seemed to have caught the panic in her voice, for he looked at her with round eyes, and apologised several times. Then seemingly hurt, he helped her back to where she could keep her head out of the water on her own, still holding her away from him, like one would do with a stinky fat baby.

* * *

**(Legolas POV)**

He delicately let go of the woman, and backed away from her slowly, not to alarm her any more than she already seemed to be. Legolas knew he should not take the way she had reacted personally, but he couldn't help but feel hurt. How could she think for even a split second that _he_ would take advantage of her body. The simple thought of the vile act sickened him.

At the same time, he felt sad for her, for if she had reacted that way, someone must have abused of her. He remembered one of the merchants calling her '_soft breasts_' and wished he had killed him sooner.

He observed the woman from afar. She was sitting in the water, holding her legs against her chest with her arms, not really doing anything, and hopefully feeling better already. Even if she was not feeling any better Legoals thought it was not his place to comfort her, and feared that if he did try to tell her a sweet word or two, she would, at best, ignore him. _She is too used to trust only herself to accept any one's help...It is a lonely path she chose.  
_

Her wet very short hair was pulled back completely, revealing feminine features Legolas had not noticed she had before. Her nose was crooked, but it fitted her better than a straight one would, thought the elf. Her eyes shone of malice, like a fox's, and her lips always seemed to be smiling, even when her nose wrinkled because she pouted.

All in all, her very appearance inspired treachery and distrust, and yet somehow, what he saw on her face was determination and a sort of _involuntary_ courage he had not known existed before he had met her.

His gaze travelled unwillingly to her ears. The elf often found himself staring at human ears. He could not get over the fact that their tips were rounded and not pointy, and hardily desired to touch _one_ at the very least, to know how they felt. But since he deemed it inappropriate to ask to touch such a sensual part of the body to a woman, and unthinkable to a stranger, Legolas was convinced he would never touch a human ear.

* * *

(back to Irony's POV)

Irony stomach growled as she sat in the water. Hunger had washed away every unpleasant thoughts, and the only thing she could think about right now, was_ food_. All kinds of foods. But not wild berries. She would rather swallow rocks than one more of those fruits. She decided that as soon as the night would fall, she would hunt whatever she found first, and eat it, might it be the elf!

After a long while, when her fingers were wrinkly because of the water, and her clothes possibly dry, Irony left the water barely conscious of her nakedness any more to dress up. She felt heavy without the liquid around her body to support her weight and her wet feet were full of mud after no more than a few steps.

She felt odd. As if something was wrong. As if she was forgetting something important. And before she could figure out what she had forgotten, a hand hold her arm firmly and a finger gently traced the scar down her back. She froze.

"You are the woman with the scar." said Legolas's icy voice.

* * *

**So...**

**I am going to be a terrible person and let you hang there for at least a week (or two), to let the tension build in :p  
**


	11. Little Dead Dream

**Little _Dead_ Dream**

"You are the woman with the scar." said Legolas's icy voice.

"I am." she answered, _almost_ shamelessly.

He turned her around so she would have to look at his face. He did not exactly look happy, but neither did he look enraged, and that was good enough already. He was frowning, and disappointed. Irony guessed he would have liked to know about this sooner. But then she would have had to tell him about the globe. The dark sphere she was resolved not to hand to anyone before she had found out what was its power.

"Why are orcs after you? I thought you had a..._neutral_ relationship with them." His hands rested on her shoulders so that she could not turn, or walk away, and he was looking straight into her eyes, making lying harder for her. And making her realise that she did not want to lie to _him_.

"Not exactly...My relationship with Jagah and his orcs was more or less neutral, but my relationship with the others is no different than yours with them." She grimaced a little. "Actually they probably hate me more since I killed those who had 'accepted' me."

"I know orcs," he started, putting his prince face on, the one she knew meant dissatisfaction. "They don't leave grey skies to catch _insignificant_ humans who have crossed them once. They do not care so much about their kin." He stood up straight and put on an even more sever expression.

The word _insignificant_ resonated in her head. She had never though of herself as someone who mattered more than the next person, but _insignificant_? Was that what she was to him? An _insignificant_ human? She felt pain mingle with a little bit of anger spreading to her body, but she fought it back for letting it come out loud would mean she cared about the elf. _And I must not. I mean, I don'!_

"What have you done to draw their wrath? What it is you have that they want so badly?" asked Legolas desperate for an answer.

"Not '_they'_...just _Bolg_." she corrected. That at least, she could let him know.

"Bolg is dead." he answered right away. "You must be taking someone else for him, _again_." He reminded her that she _had_ mistaken Bolg for Azog before. _But not this time_.

Irony shook her head. "Rule n°3, elf: no body, no dead. You should have checked the body, but you didn't." Legolas's brows furrowed more deeply, darkening his elvish features. "I didn't fell in the crowd in Greyrock during the raid. I was beaten up by an orc. And that orc told me Bolg wants my ass." she assured him.

"_Why?" _The word sounded sharp as a blade. And it had almost the same effect as one on Irony, for she found her tongue was like cut and she could not speak. "I will ask you one last time. _Why_ does Bolg want _you_?"

"I don't know!" she shouted, knowing very well her lie was not as convincing as usual. _Rule n°6: Either lie well or not at all, _she reminded herself. _But it doesn't matter. The elf is naïve enough._

"Are you sure?" he insisted.

Irony wondered if the elf suspected something. But she had already lied, and could not back down now. "Sure as grass is green." This time the lie sounded so real, _she_ almost believed it.

The elf seemed somehow disappointed by her answer, then his face closed up, and all emotions disappeared from it. Although, Irony could see he was fighting to look 'normal'. She wasn't sure how to interpret the way he was reacting. The thought that he knew more than he let her know crossed her mind.

"Then we shall not let him have you." He seemed pensive as he looked at the grass. "I'm taking you to Greenwood, to keep you safe there until we learn what is so special about you, Bolg would have orcs leave the grey skies to capture _you_."

"You're taking me to _Mirkwood_?!" she jerked. "But-" Irony shook her head. "What happened to going to _Bree_? _**Strider**_-"

"Strider can wait." he cut. "Bolg, can't. And if you die, how am I to find the ranger?"

* * *

"Legolas..." called Irony, squinting her eyes to see better in front of her. She saw the elf's ears twitch at his name, but he did not turn nor answer. "We should not have cut through the Ghosts Plains..." she complained. He did not react. It seemed he had no intention on paying her any more attention than the day before, the day before the last, and the days before that again. She wasn't sure why the elf was so angry at her, but she supposed it was because she hadn't told him about Bolg sooner. It was none of his business until he had decided to make it his. She had thought about telling him the truth about strider just so they would not go to Mirkwood. But after chewing on it a bit, she had come to the conclusion that if she told him, the elf might very well _give_ her to Bolg instead, so she had kept her mouth shut.

Since he would not acknowledge her presence, Irony decided not to insist any further. Still, she hated the White Plains. They weren't even _plains_, but a rocky mountain's side. Every one called it place the Ghosts Plains and avoided it because of the thick blinding fog, strange noises that could be heard and even stranger shapes that appeared out of nowhere. Irony knew the queer noises were caused by water running under the earth and the scary shapes only weird old dry trees. There was also the legend of the Black Knight. Some said he was a demon. Others said he was the ghost of a mean elf. And others again said _he_ was a _she. _But all agreed the Black Knight was to be feared for he fed on souls.

But There was no ghosts here. Irony knew that because she came from one of the White Plains' three villages: _Bucketdeep._

**_FLASHBACK_**

_Irony stared at the greenish powder there was in the two small boxes she was holding, wondering if she had enough to end her nightmare. And the answer was yes, she had so much __**more**__ than enough. The real problem was that she did not know if she had it in her to use it. Hearing steps coming her way, she quickly closed the boxes and hid them in her pocket._

"_Payn's lookin' everywhere for you." said a voice Irony knew well. Guill came to sit near her, in the old barn, with the hens and donkeys. "He says he's got a gift for you."_

"_More like he wants to stick his worm in me again." she barked. She kicked a hen that had the misfortune to be close by. It did not feel satisfying at all, and left Irony even more frustrated than she had been a few seconds before._

" _'Tis a small price to pay for all the comfort he's given you and your folks, since you've been wed." answered Guill. _

_The boy caressed her cheek with the back of his hand in the hope that it would bring her some comfort, but she pushed his hand away. Irony liked Guill. No. She was in love with Guill, the baker's boy. But since she had been wed to Payn, the rich old man who had come from Kindmoss looking for a second __**younge**__r wife, she felt like even Guill did not understand her any more. And every day she woke up in her marital bed, she died a little bit more in the inside._

"_He's blinded my old folks with silver and only given me pain. His folks chose his name well, it sounds the same. Pain, Payn." she said thinking she loathed her parents as much as Payn. Guill said nothing. "Payn's fucking Tilis too, you know?" she told her lover. She did not care that her husband was cheating on her. If anything she was grateful. That way she did not have to lay with him every night. "He should repudiate me and marry her."_

"_Soon enough none of this lot will matter, little dream." Guill assured her. _

_Exited Irony threw herself on Guill, not caring if she dirtied her ugly rag of a dress. "You'll finally take me out of this hole?When? Let's leave now!" She kissed him here and there so she was happy. She could not stand the fog any more than the people she was surrounded by any more and it was about time Guill fulfilled his promise to take her away._

"_Soon." answered Guill. 'Soon' is all Guill ever answered. Irony wondered if the boy who had promised her she would see the White City one day wasn't full of hollow promises. _If I wait for Guill to take me out of here, I'll wait forever_, she thought._ _She hid her disappointment and decided to keep her smiling façade up, so that Guill would only see the little dream she had been, and not the woman she had become __forcefully, at age 12._

"_Soon." she repeated, faking happiness._ As soon as **tonight**. And **alone**.

_She kissed him deeply for she was convinced it was the last time she would see him. And while she distracted him with her lips, Irony slid one of the boxes in his pocket, hoping he would not find it before the trap had closed around him. _

**_END OF FLASHBACK_**

_The only ghosts in those plains are those of my memories, _she told herself as her past came back to her. Irony often thought about what would have happened if she had been born in Kindmoss, the richest out of the three miserable villages. She would have never met Guill and her parents might not have needed to sell her to feed themselves. _There is no point in ruminating the past now that it has passed._

The silence was so loud, Irony heard a small bird fly over their heads. She thought nothing of it at first. But then, an hour later, another bird flew over their heads. Irony frowned and tried hard not to look behind her. The birds who lived in the White Plains were a rare sight. To see one was exceptional. To see two of them was very unlikely to be a happy coincidence. She suddenly remembered the men from around here sent birds to send each other messages when there were wargs out in the wild, or to communicate their position to other men when they were hunting. _Maybe someone is trying to warn us?_

She observed the elf for a second. He had fastened his horse's trot, and kept shifting position on his horse. _Something is wrong. He feels it too._

Still trotting behind the elf, Irony looked left and right, then quickly glanced behind. If they were being followed, she could not see who or what was following them because of the fog. Which meant that they could not see her either and they used the sounds the horses were making to follow her and Legolas.

She scratched the back of Ibey's right ear, and it made him neigh loudly, like she had hoped it would, like it always did. And she used the noises the horse was making to cover the cracking sounds _she_ was making by grabbing a low blanch and hissing herself up on it, so that the elf, and their potential pursuers wouldn't notice a thing. This way, she would be able to see them, or at least their shadows, from a safe distance when they would walk under her tree. Finding Legolas later would- she had no intention of following the elf. She wanted to go to Mirkwood as much as she wanted to be eaten by a warg. Still, the thought of leaving the elf that way made her feel a slight pinch in the chest. _He can't flee from a warg. Just leave him behind, don't be foolish._

She had waited still perched up in the tree, when a group of ten men walked passed her, silent as shadows. From the tree, and with the fog, she could not see their faces and knew not who they were. But from the sharp angles some the dark shapes she could see, she knew they carried weapons, and that was enough to make them foes to her.

_Legolas should be warned._ But she screamed to alert the him, they would shoot arrows in the threes and one or two might wound her despite the fog. But if she said nothing, the elf might be the one getting shot with arrow.

As soon as they were at a safe distance, Irony climbed down and spied on them like they were spying on the elf. She heard a cage being open and a swift flying sound. _A third bird. It's not a message they are sending, it's a signal they are giving each other! They are more men hiding somewhere!_

Before she could figure out what to do, she heard rocks fly, weapons clench, men run and groan and whine, bones break, horses panic, a loud _**thung**__,_ a lonely cry of pain then all was silent again.

"Do we have 'em?" asked a man.

"I got one with pointy ears, here." answered another. "Still alive, but unconscious." She heard him kick something. It must have been Legolas.

"I care not about the _creature_!" yelled the first man. Irony did not like the tone on which the man said 'creature'. Legolas was a being of Light, different from humans, yes, but not some freak."Who 's got the other one, the _woman_?" he added getting impatient. No one answered. "Well, what you're waiting for? Look around!" he ordered.

Since they were making a lot or noise in their search, Irony climbed up a tree again, just in case they walked as far back as where she stood.

After a while, a man spoke. "She ain't here, Guill." _Guill?!Fuck!I should have protested harder against taking this damn road! A short cut he said! A short cut to death, he must have meant! Damn elf! _

She had not recognised her ex lover's voice. She had oh, so wrongly assumed crossing the White Plains would be simple enough since barely any one ever walked far from the villages for safety reasons.

"The little dream must've fled before we attacked or she'd be laying somewhere around here. And she ain't here." he assured Guill.

"Find her!" shouted Guill.

The men growled and some murmured angrily to one another. Men from the White Plains did not like to be given orders. They liked to think they were their own chief. "The morning we'll send a party. We_ all_ want revenge for those who perished in the fires she started."started a third man. Irony bit her lips. She had not meant to kill any one with those fires, but she had known the risks. She had chosen to burn houses she knew were empty most of the time just so that no one would be hurt. "But tonight we go home. The dark's growing and the past night, trees bled 'round here." All the others seemed to agree with him.

Bleeding trees meant people having been killed, and not by humans. Of course they wouldn't want to stay out here. _Trees bled, _Irony repeated in her head_. Orcs... As soon as they leave, I am running to Wormsknot, I'll be safe from Guill there, and will hear the orcs arrive shall they attempt to raid the village. _She took a deep silent breath._ I can make it._

"What do we do with the elf?" asked someone.

"He's too strong. He killed four of ours and wounded three more. It's only luck if we managed to knock 'im down." said someone else. "We should kill him now, before he wakes and b'come a problem again." he added.

Irony almost screamed to protest. Sure, Legolas was hard to understand since he only said half of what he meant to say, and sure, he could be ice cold and distant, and lacked tact, and was an annoying princeling, and sometimes arrogant and- well, she just did not want him dead. The elf was also kind hearted, could be funny, protective, smart enough for a warrior, calm and sweet, simply adorable when he smiled shyly, and he smelled spring flowers and joy, if joy smelled like anything, and he cursed like an infant and- _And_ _he should get the hell out of my head!The elf be damned!_

"Aye, kill him now!" someone agreed. She bit her lips harder. If they decided to kill him now, even if she interfered, there was nothing she could do to stop them. _I should leave him behind like I had planned. I can't help him!_

"No, he might know where Irony fled to." protested Guill, authoritatively. She felt less guilty for planning on leaving after hearing that. If Legolas lived long enough to come back to consciousness, surely he would be able to free himself. _Wouldn't he? _He didn't need her help. He _never_ needed her help.

"If the other was smart enough to flee before we fell on her, she's smart enough not to come back for that one." pointed out the one who had proposed to kill the elf first.

"No!The elf lives for now!" shouted Guill. "The woman ain't coming back, that's for sure. But this one might _know_ where she's heading, so we may catch her still the morning. If the orcs don't bleed her dry first."

* * *

**A/N:** Finally updating again! So, the beginning of the romance between Irony and Legolas starts here and will evolve- well you'll see ^^

There will be a more adventure and crazy stuff stuff happening until the end, I must warn you. The ploy got sooo complex so that I could end the story happily! If you thought Irony's life was full of random, unpredictable, unlikely stuff, just _wai_t until you see what's coming _next (in exactly two chapters)_! I am so exited


	12. Lucky Development

**Lucky development**

The wooden roofs were cracking under her feet more loudly than she had expected, making Irony regret she had followed Guill and his men all the way back to Bucketdeep. Good thing there was a drunkard singing louder than a cave troll could scream in the streets, tonight.

Irony lied on her belly and discretely glanced through a fourth window. It was dark inside and she could hear no snoring coming from the room. It seemed empty. She pushed the window open and entered.

She stayed in a corner without moving, the time for her vision to adapt to the complete lack of light. Once she could distinguish forms from one another, she headed for the door. But before she could reach it, what she had thought was an object moved and part of it extended in front of her. She was glad she hadn't had the time to put her foot down or she would have stepped on a pair legs. A pair of legs tied together, and gesticulating to get free. _Well this is a lucky development._

She untied the legs. The shadow seemed to panic a little. She guessed the prisoner could neither see nor hear her.

She took the candle wax enveloped in a tissue his captors had used to suppress his hearing out his ears, removed the blindfold from his eyes, and took out the cloth stuffed in his mouth.

"Wha-? Why- I don't-"

"Trust me elf, me neither." she whispered, irritated. "I usually don't look back, and even less _come back_. It's against rule n°7. Now, shut up! I don't want to be caught." she said as low as she could. Irony sighed, she could not undo the knots that tied his hands. She plunged her hand in her boot, and took out the long knife she had taken from the orc in Greytown.

It was so dark she could not read the expression on his face, but was certain it must have been one of utter confusion. She too was confused, and wondered under what spell she was to have even thought about coming here. There was absolutely nothing she liked about the place, the people here wanted her dead, and Legolas was her captor. She was not supposed to free someone who wanted to put her away. And yet her body moved on its own to do so and everything about it felt right. It all made absolutely no sense to her.

"I was certain you would not come back for me." he told her. She stopped cutting the thick rope to raise a brow at him. _He has to choose __**now**__ to be talkative!_

"Yet, I'm here." she said not so pleasantly. She was angry at herself. Breaking one of her rules was putting herself at the mercy of unnecessary risks. And by being here she was breaking at least eight of them!

"Use the knife's pointy end, it will be easier." he told her when he noticed she still had troubles cutting the knot. Irony wondered if he was being lazy, she was half certain he could break those knots with this absurd strength of his now that they were half cut through. But she did as she was told and it made things easier, indeed. He sure knew a lot more about weapons than about anything else. Was he even interested by anything else?

"Why did you come back?" he asked again pressing for a real answer. Irony snorted then pressed her lips against his for a second. _Because I like you elf!_ She shouted to herself in her head. The thought of it angered her more than she already was. After the man who had thrown her to the orcs to distract them and run for his life, she had thought she had been cured once and for all from that so-called wonderful feeling people called love. And yet there she was, doing something stupid and reckless for yet another male who she had no doubt would use her like the others and make her miserable again.

The elf opened his mouth in shock but thankfully kept silent, despite the fact that there was obviously _so much_ he wanted to ask. But a loud noise of stomping feet were heard and before she could understand what was happening, Irony was thrown against the wall, against which Legolas had been laying back on. The elf had broken his ties and was now standing in front of her, showing her his back, a hand wrapped around a sharp blade. Judging by his position, the blow the elf had stopped with a hand had been meant for her. If he hadn't reacted so quickly, she would have had a blade coming out of her skull right between the eyes.

"Catch Irony!" screamed Guill. It seemed they had been waiting in the neighbouring room, ready to barge in, in case she showed up. And like a fool, she _did_ show up. But weirdly enough, she did not regret having come back for the elf. Not even now that him and her were two against at least ten men. Feeling braver than she had felt before, Irony held her knife in front of her, ready to use it if any shadow with non-pointed ears came to close.

A first man launched himself at her, but never came close enough. The elf sent him flying through the window long before. Following that, all the others attacked them simultaneously. She received a fist in her face, then a knee in the stomach. Another fist came close but she ducked in time. Then someone tried pulling on her hair but they were too short to be held on properly so she was able to slip away from the grip, and just as suddenly as the fighting had started, the fighting stopped. When there was no sound of any more agitation Irony opened her eyes just in time to see Legolas pulling her up on her feet.

She looked around. In all thirteen men were down. Only two of them were still conscious, and whining. The others had all been knocked out. Irony moved away from the elf's grip to search for a familiar face: Guill's face. She found him. He was passed out and judging from the wound on his forehead, it was a hard blow on the head that had knocked him out.

Irony immediately put her knife under his throat with the intention of bleeding him for good so that he would not pursue her any more, and as a warning for the others. But she could feel Legolas's eyes piercing through the back of her head. She wondered how hard he was judging her at the moment. The elf was against killing defenceless people and she was about to murder a man who was as inoffensive as a babe right now. She bit her lips and looked at his right wrist, where his right hand had been. The villagers had cut it when they thought _he_ had stolen the poison and their houses. She bit her lips harder. _I think I have done enough to you. If you want to live or die, Guill, it is your choice, not mine, _she told herself_. _She put the knife back in its sheath then in her boot and stood up. As she walked towards the window, one of the still conscious men caught her ankle with his hand.

"...the elf was one of us.." he said with difficulty. "We planned it..together...in grey town..."

Irony shook her legs. "I'm not stupid, Aren, I know." She remembered the way Legolas had shifted on his horse. And if she had been able to feel their presence so they were close behind, the elf had necessarily heard them. Yet he had said _nothing_. She turned to Legolas. "Follow me."

* * *

(Legolas POV)

"Follow this stream, it will lead you straight to where you belong." said Irony as she untied a donkey with the apparent intention to mount it and leave on her own.

"They are orcs out there, surely you don't intend to ride alone?" asked Legolas, stepping in front of her donkey.

"If I stay here, I'll die. And 'surely' you don't expect me to come with you, after that." she replied cruelly. The elf lowered his gaze. He had expected words like these, but it seemed being aware they would come at him did not shield him from feeling both ashamed and hurt. " Why did you go behind my back? If you wanted me dead, you could have at least had the grace to the do the job yourself." she added. She did not raise her voice but the anger she felt made her pupils shake.

"Aren assured me Guill had no intention to kill you. He said he wanted to take your freedom away, like a robber and an murderer deserve. And since you have done them so many wrongs I thought it only fair that Guill shall have the right to punish you." he admitted. Saying those words made him realise how naïve he had been and how much the woman had been right when she had told him that an elf among humans, was a sheep among wolves, an easy prey to fool for their very nature made them see the good over the bad.

But if he was sorry of the way he had acted, he still thought the female deserved to be punished for all the things she had done. If there was one thing he was certain Aren had not lied about when he had met him in Greyrock, it's the story about how from a 'little dream', Irony had turned into a whole town's nightmare.

The woman had tried to poison her husband but inadvertently caused a woman named Tilis's death instead. Then to make things better, she stole from Tilis's dead body and accused Guill of her crimes, what lead to him having a hand cut off for stealing, and to be beaten up and jailed for being a murderer. And while the whole town was busy torturing the innocent fourteen years old Guill, Irony had robbed many houses from their coins, before burning down three of them to make sure no one would pay her any attention when she fled.

"To convince me further, he told me his friend had stolen something from you, he believed to be powerful, and emanated of dark magic, so that you could not use it selfishly and bring more ruin upon the earth. I did not believe a thing he had told me, at first. Then I saw the mark on your back...And when I asked you for the truth, you lied to me although you knew– _you know_, you can _trust_ me. "

"When did you and Aren-"

"They saw us arrive in town and had followed us in the inn. Aren only spoke to me the night before we were forced to leave. He told me that him and Guill would wait on the road that went trough the White Plains every day for a month, hoping I would do the right thing." he told her. "But there were all lying, just like you." he said with a mix of sadness and anger in his voice, he knew the foxy woman had caught. He wondered if she understood how betrayed him too felt at the moment. "Once they had tied me up, they threw cold water on me so I would wake up to hear them say what they had planned for me, and you if you were caught. They wanted to abuse of you then cut your limbs, and to gut me after having cut off my manhood." he informed her. He had seen death, and fought monsters for longer than he could recall but Legolas had never been so disgusted by anything living being before. "I wouldn't have blamed you if you had killed Guill." he heard himself say. And much to his dismay, he meant it. "Him, and his followers are savages. _You_ may lie, but at the end of the day, you remain better than they are,_ by far_." he added.

"I'm no better than any of them." she said furrowing a brow. She seemed less angry now, but he could feel that his presence unnerved her. "We're _all_ part monster, part saint. Even _you_, as you have just proven. Better put that in your pretty head." she told him.

That unsettled Legolas. "This isn't true." he argued. _What good is there to be found in men who would have enjoyed torturing a woman in the vilest ways? _"The two of us have naught in common with each other, and even less in common with them."

"Aren't I right though?" she threw back at him, putting on her mischievous smile. "_You_ let a village be raided because saving it was too much trouble." she pointed out without making it wound like a reproach. She never made any reproach to any one. And now that Legolas knew of her past he understood why: she could not reproach others with what she had done.

"They were too many orcs." he argued.

"They were no more than seventeen, I counted them." she puffed. He thought it was a smart move to have counted them. That is what soldiers are taught in their first years of training. "I killed one. You killed four, or so you said. We _could_ have come back during during the night and finished them _all,_ one by one, discretely, if we had _wanted_ to. But instead we just went on with our lives." she affirmed. A terrible feeling of guilt took Legolas's body for there was truth in what she was saying. They could have gone back and killed the orcs, had they _wanted_ to. But instead, they had chosen to leave, because it was more accommodating for them and the thought that others might need his help had not even crossed his mind. "We_ all_ are both monster and saint. No need to feel sorry for ourselves, it's just the things are."

Irony kicked the donkey's side to make it walk. Legolas moved to block her way again. "The Orthanc stone." he demanded.

From the look she gave him, he guessed she did not know what he was asking for. Yet, however hesitant she was, she slid a hand under her shirt before taking out some old cloth and unwrap it to reveal a perfectly round pitch black glass-like stone . "What does it do?" she asked examining the object in her hand, without ever touching it directly.

"It shows many things, and most that should never be seen. Presents that may be, pasts that may have been, futures that _may_ come. It so treacherous even the first Dark Lord, who made them, could not tell the truth from the lies it shows."

Irony rolled her eyes. And she must have found the answer he had given her displeasing for she covered the stone again and threw it at him aggressively. He caught it effortlessly, making sure not to touch it directly either and covered it fast, hoping no one was looking at them through another one of those. He was glad the human had had the good sense not to touch it.

"It's only brought me ill luck. You can keep it."

"It might have helped the orcs spread in all of middle earth. They would have known how to fight us, before we even came to know there was a fight to be had." said Legolas staring at the covered object in his hands, amazed at how such a small thing could be the cause of an infernal chaos.

Probably having decided that she cared no more about neither the globe nor him, the woman kicked the donkey to leave again but once more the elf stopped it immediately. "I am still taking you to my father. He shall judge you for having collaborated with orcs to kill elves and human. And for having profaned an elven body." This globe had been in the possession of elves, he knew. All the smaller globe were kept hidden in the elven realms, never to be used. This one must have had been found on an elven corpse.

Irony's face froze for a second. Then furry spread in her eyes. "PAY for that? Pay _again_? I think I've paid quite enough for everything I have done,_ that_ included!" She pointed ta the object. "I paid for it in advance when I was raped by my 'husband'. Then I paid for it when I was beaten bloody by random drunk folks. Then I paid for it again when I was thrown out of the brothel I lived in, in the streets, with _nothing_ on, by the very whores she I thought my _friends_. And _again _when I was made a slave by a man who's life _I had saved_. And _again_ when some magician tried to take my back bones out of me, leaving the scar in back. And _again_, and _again_ and _again_ until a man I loved abandoned me to orcs, saving his life. I think I have paid so much for all I have done, that life _OWES ME,_ now!"

As soon as the words had left her mouth, she calmed down. She looked as thought she felt guilty for for having shared her secrets. Or rather, she regretted having shared all of the misfortune that had happened upon her. Legolas did not know what to say so he was taken aback by all these informations. His brain had ceased to function. Once more he was torn between whether trying to comfort her or not, and she let no indication as to if she would oppose it or not.

Before he could decided on how to react, the human had forced the donkey's reins in his hands, with a calm he did not understand the provenance of. He blinked a few times and remained unable to speak for a small while, during which she stared at him blankly, as though she could not care less about all that had happened to her, and about what was going to happen to her in Greenwood.

"Aren't you angry?" he asked, astonished. "After what I have done, after I have taken _vice's hand_, you would still follow me without putting a fight?"

As the words came out of his mouth the violence of the situation suddenly hit him. He had taken vice's hand and...he remembered Guill having called the word 'irony' when he had ordered his men to attack the woman. _Is 'irony' her name?_ It couldn't be. It was not a word meant to be used as a name. And if that was her name...what did the clairvoyant mean by standing between irony's thighs? He tried hard to remember if the word had been written with a capital 'I' or not. If it had he wasn't sure he wanted to keep on living at all. The woman was..well, human for once. And mortal for twice. And cruel, and untrustworthy, and rude, and impolite, and graceless, and stubborn, and she made fun of him all the time, and her nose wrinkled when she frowned and that was cute, and she laughed a lot, not delicately, but with honesty and he liked the sound of it. She was also tenacious, and clever. He had thought her eyes were too small, her crooked nose coarse, and her lower lip too plumb at first. But now, her eyes had a light in them he quite like, her nose gave her character, and her lips were soft when they met his. His thoughts were disturbed by the woman's voice.

"Fight against your will? For what purpose? Being knocked out? Getting new bruises? As if I didn't have enough of those!" she exclaimed with her usual nonchalance. " And_ I am_ angry. But not at _you_, at myself. I used to know better who not to trust with so much as a handful of my hair." she added, coldly.

The elf stared at her for a while, looking for forgiveness on her face, but he found only indifference. He could find it in his heart to let her go her way now that he knew what she had endured, but decided not to for life might just take another greedy bite at her, and after almost being the cause of her death, he felt compelled to make it up to her.

After a silence growing more uncomfortable by the second, Irony spoke again. "Shall we go, then? The faster we get there, the faster I'll get _out _of there."

"About everything that happen to you I-"

"Shit happens." she cut him. She did sound so cold any more. But there was none of her usual teasing in her tone. "Then you move on to the next thing. That's life."

* * *

A/N: I don't say it often enough, but THANK YOOU for reading, and for the favs, and follows, and reviews, they are all vgreatly appreciated ;)


	13. Slower than the Donkey

**Slower than the donkey**

Irony couldn't breathe any more because of all the running. Legolas who had been pulling on her arm with a hand to force her to keep going had now released her because her face had turned blue from the lack of air. She inhaled briskly at short intervals of time, while the donkey who had finally caught up with them went to stand by a tree.

Legolas stood in front of her, showing her his back to shield her from the unavoidable danger that was closing on them. He threw a hand back, looking for a weapon, forgetting he did not have his short swords any more. Irony recognised fear through the aggravated stiffness of his body and it was not helping her regaining her calm.

An arrow flew not so far from her head, to pass her and plant itself in the tree behind her. The elf glanced back to make sure she was still alive. "Run away with the donkey!" ordered the elf with a coarse masculine voice, without looking at her.

"I run faster than the damn donkey!" she yelled back. She could hear _the others_ running and coming towards them. The confrontation was imminent. Irony's heart beat faster, and was now so loud, she was certain the elf could hear it.

"Then run!" He shouted impatiently. Shadows could be seen. "Or hide! And don't come back out unless I call for you!" he told her. She wished she could run, but her legs wouldn't move. Why wouldn't they move!? "I'll find you, later." he assured her, absolutely unconvincingly.

"You won't have eyes to find her, elf. Nor even a head." threatened a unfriendly voice.

"I can't move..." The words came out of Irony's mouth making her sound less scared than she actually was. Legolas killed the orc who had spoken as fast as he could, took the filth's weapon with in addition to his, then pushed Irony with a foot, making her fall behind the donkey. She held her knees with her arms, trying to make herself smaller than she was, hoping, no orc would remember she was even here.

At first, her being silent was efficient; the orcs cared only for the elf. She could hear them fight and pictured the fight in her head; an orc attacked, the elf blocked, pushed the filth on another orc and while they gathered themselves back up, Legolas killed or wounded a third one. Then she heard more and more swords clashing together, and groans and whining getting louder. Then there was a scream of pain so terrible it made her bones shake.

The donkey suddenly fell. It had been cut in half. Irony was covered in stinking blood and intestines but worse, she could be seen and an orc was already behind her. The ugly creature grinned cruelly at her, however, before he could reach for her, his head rolled down of his shoulders to fall between her legs. She stared at it. The jaw had dropped open and almost as much blood came out from the opened mouth than from the neck. Disgusted, she kicked it away, thinking she should have never suggested to make way to Kindmoss.

"Bolg" she heard Legolas say with hatred. She turned. The elf was holding a different sword in each hand. One of his arms shook terribly. It seemed to be hurting enough for it to be a nuisance. Seven orcs were dead, laying on the floor. The others, still standing, had taken a few step back from the elf and Bolg stood tall and cruel over the immortal creature of light.

* * *

_EARLIER_

"_You are slower than the donkey." complained Irony furrowing both brow. Her voice sounded broken because the movements of the donkey under her were rougher on her than she had expected. "And the donkey is half dead." she added, irritated this time. She hated the donkey, but mainly because it came from Bucketdeep. _

"_Are you so eager to be locked up in a dungeon ?" replied the elf, a discreet mocking smile on. _

_Irony growled."It's too soon for you to joke with me, elf." she told him, glaring. "Yesterday night I could have died." She looked at him more intensely. "because of you." She turned to look in front of her, preferring to stare at the fog than at the elf's annoying face._

"_I apologise." answered Legolas, solemnly. "I did not mean to-"_

"_Roah! Save it!" she cut, annoyed. He had only opened his mouth to apologise for about everything and anything since they had left Bucketdeep and it was getting on her nerves. His apologies sounded like a very repetitive and boring song to her. Besides, he could be sorry all wanted, it did not change the facts."Just tell me why you are so slow." she demanded._

"_The injury on my hand is healing much slower than it should."started the elf, looking at his hand. Irony remembered that he had gotten it by catching a blade that would have gone through her skull, hadn't he reacted fast."The pain is insufferable."he said trying to close his hand in a fist, but failing. Irony glanced at the wound. The gash seemed deep, and suspiciously yellow. "It makes me feel feverish and weakens me strongly per moment."_

"_How did you knock them all out then?" she answered, thinking he was faking pain too attract some sympathy. _

"_Adrenaline." he said. He sighed. "Vengeance." he added lowering his eyes. "Saving you from them." That he said looking right into her eyes, and his ears turned pink. It made her feel a tiny bit guilty for having been cold to him. She hadn't considered the fact that, in the end, __**he**__ had saved her life. Again. He owed her nothing, and she owed him thanks for it. "Show me." she said, stopping the donkey. The elf stopped walking to hold his hand out to her. Irony examined the wound. It was infected, what justified the yellowish colour at the extremities. But no normal cut made the skin around it turn violet and orange. It looked like he had been burned badly. _

"_The illness.." she sighed._

"_Elves don't catch illnesses." Legolas told her sounding more elven than ever. Irony rolled her eyes._

"_It's not an actual illness. It's a sort poison." she told him._

"_Elves are immunized against human poisons too."_

"_It's not exactly a poison either." she said resigning to having to explain to him what 'the illness' was."It is a strong parasite that feeds on the flesh and fights against the immune system of the body, lowering the chances of healing." she told him. "Elf flesh can get be eaten, cant' it?" she asked him sarcastically._

"_I thought it was too soon for jokes." he growled._

"_It is too soon for __**you**__ to make jokes." she told him. "__**I**__ get to make fun of you as much as I want." With her thumb she pressed the side of the wound, what made the elf wince in pain. " Don't act like a babe, my finger barely brushed the gash." She frowned a little at the wound when pus came out of it. "We need to disinfect it...with fire."_

"_Fire?!" he jerked taking his hand away from her._

"_That is how you kill the parasite: fire. Humans die from it often, and I bet you could too if the parasite reproduces itself faster than you heal." she warned him. Judging from his grimace, she had scared him a little. "You will soon suffer from vertigo if you don't take care of it __**with fire**__." she insisted. Irony took his hand again, to see just how infected it was. "We should stop in Kindmoss, it's not so far away now. Only another two days of walking from here."_

"_But if we keep walking, we'll reach my realm's borders in a week time." argued the elf. Irony purposely pressed her thumb against the wound's side again. The elf cursed in his tongue and it made her laugh._

"_A real princess, aren't you?" she said, grinning. "Kindmoss is that way." Not waiting for Legolas to argue, she kicked the donkey so that it would turn in towards the village. The elf followed without saying a word._

* * *

_BACK TO THE PRESENT_

"Hmfgh" groaned the elf as he received Bolg's elbow in the the face with such violence it made his nose and lips open and bleed. Irony was glad she was not the elf right now. Bolg seemed determined to kill him, and was harder to wound than normal orcs. The monstrous orc was a giant bag of hard muscles covered by an even harder skin. The elf's body could endure a lot, but cut open more easily.

Hearing Legolas groan in pain made her wish she could do something to help. But her muscles-less arms would not do much damage on the wall that Bolg was. And there was no doubt that she would be more a bother than a relief to the elf if she went to stand beside him.

The prince lost his balance, fell, and had to roll to the side to avoid being kicked. He had trouble standing back up, and only used one arm to help himself up. Irony thought about the wound again. She hopped he would not have a fever, right now. But judging by the inefficiency of his attacks, she could tell he was weakened by the illness.

Irony received a kick in the back. She fell on her four, in the donkey's spilled inside. Angry, she grabbed one of the bloody organs ans threw it at the creature's faces. The blood in his eyes blinded him, giving Irony the time to take the decapitated corpse's sabre and plunge it in the orc's eye. The orc groaned, then fell. She took the sabre out of his head, and spun around. As soon as she had turned, another orc's sword aimed at her face. Having had the reflex to protect herself, the sabre she held blocked the blow to her surprise. Then she blocked a second one, and a third one, before a fist met her jaw, and another knocked her down.

She crawled backwards, avoiding the sword slashing at her, until her back was against a three and she could not escape any more. She shielded her face with her arms and closed her eyes, waiting for her skull to be open in two, thinking she wished the black knight was real. She would sell her soul for really cheap right now.

She had heard that the last seconds of someone's life were the slowest, and the rumour was right. Irony felt like the blow meant to end her life was taking an eternity to fall upon her. An eternity during which she thought about nothing but how much she felt alive and wanted to remain so. And about the last time she had kissed the elf. His lips were soft and had been rather welcoming that time.

She never felt the blow. Yet, after a while she did not feel the cold breeze on her skin any more, could not smell the donkey's rests putrid odour, and could not hear the steel clash nor the orcs cheer, nor the elf groan. She could not feel _life_ around her around. She felt nothing.

Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes. Around her, every one seemed to have frozen in time. Actually, it was time that seemed to have frozen them. No one moved nor breathed, and every one was stuck in mid-movement. Only a man dressed in a full black armour moved.

Looking unconcerned, he shifted his wait from one leg to the other as he looked around him.

He was the most beautiful being Irony had ever set eyes upon. He had delicate, yet, manly traits. His hair was long, wavy, and so black it swallowed the light around it. His ears were as pointy as Legolas's, and his eyes were colder, bluer and more piercing by far. But what held her gaze were his thin lips curled into a cruel and dark smile. He was handsome, but mostly _terrible_, she realised.

"One must have done dark deeds to be able to call upon darkness." said the apparition. Or was he real? Irony wasn't sure. Nothing seemed real. The fog had disappeared somehow, and the ground, the trees, the orcs, and even Legolas, looked like they belonged to another world. Irony wondered if she had taken a vicious hit on the head at some point. "And one must be in great need to call upon a greater power for help."

The handsome creature touched the orc that stood above her with his sword only a few inches away from her head. Somehow, the Dark Knight's hand went through the filth's body as if it had been water, and the orc vanished in a dark smoke. The apparition breathed in the black fume, closing his eyes, seemingly enjoying himself. Then he focused on Irony again. "How may I help you, human?" he asked with honey in his voice.

* * *

**A/N: **Héhéhé.


	14. Are you calling me cheap?

**Are you calling me _cheap_?**

"How may I help you, human?" he asked with honey in his voice.

"Save me." answered Irony, without taking the time to think. A voice inside her head told her she ought to be scared. But the situation was way too peculiar for Irony to be frightened. The Black knight was obviously dangerous, but as far as she knew, he might not even be real.

The knight smiled a little then cocked his head to the side. "I can." he told her. He extended his hand to her, to help her up. "If you offer me something worth the trouble." Irony had extended her hand to take his, but decided to stand on her own after hearing that.

She used the tree to pull herself to her feet. "What do you want from me?" she asked him, wiping the donkey's blood off her face. His cruel smile grew wider. He had obviously been waiting for her to ask that question.

Yet did not give her an answer right away. Instead, he circled her, looked at her up and down, took her chin between his index and his thumb to look at her from close. Then he released her, turned, walked to Legolas and put his hands on the elf's shoulders. "A life for a life." said the black knight.

Irony furrowed a brow as she analysed the situation. In front of her stood a ….'greater power" who claimed she had called upon him, who had seemingly stopped time before she was cut in half, and who was offering to save her life if she...killed the elf in exchange? And how was she supposed to accomplish that? Legolas was twice her size in both inches and muscles, a trained warrior and an elf and she was...well, human and definitively not stupid enough to engage in such a confrontation.

Unless, she could kill him while he time kept him frozen. The elf did not seem like he was conscious at the moment, he looked like a emotionless statue, so he would probably not feel a thing let alone _know_ he was dying. It was a reasonable option. But unfortunately, it was not one she could bring herself to take for when she looked at the elf, all she wanted was to protect him the best she could.

" No. I want you to save him too." she heard herself say. She wished she eat back those words, for they revealed, to her dismay, that she valued the elf over herself. _Think before you speak, you silly girl!_

After that answer, the apparition examined Legolas from closer than he had examined her. He seemed to understand why she would not give him up so easily. "A life for a life." he repeated without even glancing at her. "And you have none other than his to offer me."

"I can give you orcs. All of those here." she replied immediately pointing at the ugly creatures around them. She would even kill them without weapons if he asked t of her. At this point, there was nothing she was not ready to do to get out of this mess_ alive_, with Legolas.

"Orcs come _cheap_." he said looking down at Bolg without interest. He traced the monster's swords sharp edge with a gloved hand like one would caress a lover. "And what poor soul they have is already mine by rights." He looked at her again. "Only untainted souls can be given to me for I do not have the power to reach for them any more."

"Would my soul make up for his?" asked Irony. She doubted she would be able to go as far as to sacrifice herself for the prince, but she was curious to know if the option existed.

The Black Knight laughed out loud. "Would you settle for a copper if you could have a golden coin instead?" He did not wait for her to answer. "No, you wouldn't." He shook his head. "And like I said, untainted souls are those I am interested in."

_Are you calling me a cheap too, ass-hole? s_he thought, but did not say. "If I killed the elf for you right now, what guarantee do I have that you would not..._inhale_ me like you did the orc a minute ago." she asked him.

The knight sighed. "As you seem to have understood, your soul_ is_ tainted. And that is why I heard your call for help. _Unfortunately_, you are not a creature of darkness and therefore, even if I _can_ kill you, I could not feast upon your soul for it also must be given to me." His cold eyes focused on her so intensely she felt like a target about to be shot with an arrow. "I will make you an offer you may find very generous; give me the elf, and I will save your life, get you rid of all those...mindless beasts and even grant you the strength of five men for the rest of your short life. And of course, the day you perish, your soul shall come to me."

_If he asks __**me **__to kill the elf for him, it must mean that creatures of darkness cannot give him souls, or he would have Bolg do it, _she supposed_. If I am right, I can get use that and get a far better deal, _she thought, fighting the urge to smirk.

"No."she shot back, looking dead serious.

"Then feel free to die along with your friend." he answered, his cruel smile back on. He turned and started walking away.

"You won't let me die." she shouted after him. It sounded like an order. "And you _will_ help the elf too." she added. She seemed to have picked his curiosity; the black knight stopped and turned to her again.

"Will I ?" he asked, graciously raising a brow.

"Yes, you will." She took a deep breath, hopping her plan would work. "I'll make you a deal that will satisfy _both_ of us." She paused. "Save the elf, save me, make me immortal and...and I will sacrifice to _you_ my two first born." The apparition's face did not show any interest, nor anything else, as he stared at her silently. "Just born babes have untainted souls don't they?" she asked, trying to trigger a reaction.

"Tempting." He walked to her and brought his face close to hers. So close she could feel his glacial breath on her skin. Her legs shook from both the cold that emanated from him and her heart beat faster for she feared her plan would not work. It was so simple. And maybe the Black Knight could read thoughts and had read hers.

"Two lives would save yours and the elf's. But immortality will cost you more." he told her. Irony had expected something like that. No bargain was ever easy.

"How much?"

The apparition's cruel smile reappeared, crueller and colder than before. "I have seen your future through a wise stone. You are meant to have many strong, healthy children." he told her as if to congratulate her. "I shall have_ all_ of their souls. _And_ your soul, if you were to be slain by either a hand or an illness."

Irony wondered if the object he called a 'wise stone' was the one Legolas had told her about. What had the elf said about it again? That it showed the future? It probably wasn't that, or it had lied for she was sterile and there was no cure for it. Or, maybe the knight was lying about having seen her future. He was certainly thinking himself smart for doing so, when truly, he was only tricking himself.

"All right." she agreed, pretending to be reluctant to take the deal to arise no suspicion.

Looking satisfied, the knight took off a glove, and put his cold hand on her belly. She shivered but did not wrench back from his touch. "To ensure you fulfil your part, I will curse your womb _now_ so that every child that grows in it comes to me before even its first breath."

Irony bit her lips. The thought of dead babies growing in her belly was more than unpleasant. But it would not happen. It _could_ not happen. Or could it? What if he hadn't lied, and she was to be with child? What _she_ was being tricked?

"Will it hurt?"

"Terribly so." he replied smiling

* * *

The fowl smell of blood and death is what brought Irony back to consciousness. Her eyes opened, but her vision was blurry. She did not know how long she had been unconscious. In her ears rang a strident noise that covered a familiar voice. Even her own whining, she could not hear properly because of it. Her brain felt like it was melting, and the pain she felt in her womb was so intense she could not move her legs, nor even speak.

She could feel friendly hands cupping her cheeks, trying to get her to focus, but she could not. Even thinking was too hard a task right now.

"Irony are you alright? Irony? Irony can you hear me?" asked Legolas. Irony managed a weak nod. She came to understand that if her vision was so blurry, it was because her eyes were full of tears. "You are loosing a lot of blood..._too much_. Where is your wound?" although he spoke slowly, the elf sounded panicked. "Where is it?" he insisted. "I can't find your wound. Irony?"

She could not answer. She moved a hand shakily and touched the apex of legs, and it made her fingers feel wet. Wet with blood.

The thought that the black knight had tricked her and was currently trying to consume her soul crossed her mind.

Her vision blackened...

...All there was left was blackness, a cold ghost of a breeze and Legolas calling her name.

Then her consciousness faded.

* * *

**A/N** Thank you for reading the story so far!I have begun to leave informations here and there that may seem irrelevant but will be important for the grand finale! I hope the story and Irony never cease to surprise you in best of ways!

know I am always open to suggestions for the intrigue if you have any!

And my special thanks to Ainele-fin-de-siecle for the heart melting review and to NightlyRowenTree for the support!


	15. Patient like a hungry ferret

**Patient like a hungry ferret  
**

(Irony POV)

Irony woke at the elf's voice calling her this time. The pain she had felt had sustained but its ghost remained and haunted both her body while the fear to die she had felt still haunted her mind. She curled into a foetus position without saying a word. The bed she laid in was soft enough, and a pillow was as hard as a bag of rice.

Only a human nurse and Legolas were in the room with her. The nurse stood by the door, and the elf sat on a chair near the bed on which she was laying. She guessed they were in Kindmoss. Going back to Bucketdeep would have been too dangerous, and Wormsknot was the further away village from where they had been attacked.

"How are you feeling?"he asked her.

_Like I have made a mistake. A BIG one_. Irony did not answer. She was lost in her thoughts. If she was still alive, and the elf too, it meant that the Black knight was real, and that the deal she had made with him was real too. She tightened her legs together. They did not feel wet with blood any more. They were dry and clean, and that was comforting.

She observed the elf. His elbow rested on his knees, and although he tried to appear calm, Irony could see that he was rather agitated. But who wouldn't be after what had happened to them? He stared at the floor, pensive, and his fingers twitched nervously. Irony guessed there was something he wanted to ask her, but was not sure how.

She smile interiorly at the sight of the slightly decomposed elf. His green tunic was stained with blood, the laces of one of his boots were half undone, and his brows were furrowed with confusion. She understood how he felt. When they had fled from Greyrock, they had both felt the adrenaline and satisfaction procured by a good fight. This time was different. This time the fight had been gore, and left them both sore and emotionally exhausted.

Absent mindedly she put a hand on top of his. The gesture must have given him some courage for after the long and heavy silence, Legolas spoke. "I brought you here as fast as I could. You kept bleeding and the healers could neither find the cause of it, nor stop it. The haemorrhage eventually sustained on its own." Irony had no answer to that. " Do you remember what happened to you while I was fighting Bolg?"

"No." she murmured. It was a lie. And it was an obvious one.

"Are you sure?" he asked, softly yet insistently. "I remember feeling...a presence...a shadow..._cold_ take over all of my body." he said shivering. "Did you feel it too? Did you see anything?"

"No." she lied again, releasing his hand.

She wondered how the Dark knight had contributed to saving Legolas without him knowing it. The fight between Legolas and Bolg had obviously ended by the orc's death. And this time, surely he would have checked the body was empty of life a dozen times. But that did not gave her a clue about what had happened exactly, and she could not ask Legolas about it for that would mean talking about the apparition, and she thought it better not to scream it on roofs that she had made a pact with someone who might very well be the devil.

She wondered if Legolas would know who the Knight was. After all, they both had pointy ears.

Suddenly, Legolas forced her head towards him not so unkindly so that she would look at him in the eyes. "I worry for your health and do not mean to be insensitive, but...Can you walk? We have lingered here for too long. I am afraid Guill and his men might come find us soon. I can carry you if need be, I was cured from the parasite Guill had infected me with."

That was a good question. Could she walk? She moved out of his grip to sit. Then hesitantly, she stood. She had expected her legs to shake or to fall down miserably but standing up was no harder that it had ever been before. She took a step forward. Then another. And another. And another. And realised that she did not feel any less _mortal_ than before. But since the elf and her were alive, the black knight_ must_ have honoured his part of the deal. Or so she hoped.

"I can walk." she told Legolas smirking. She had expected one his quick shy smiles, but his face showed no indication of anything at the moment. His eye did not show much more as he examined her carefully from head to toe.

"Something about you has changed," he said on a serious tone. "I can feel it." he added with a cracking voice. He stared at her for while waiting for an answer, but when she gave none, he stood. "I have found us a decent horse. We should reach Greenwood The Great by tomorrow's sunset if we ride fast and make no stop." He headed to the door. "We leave at sundown. Shall you need anything before we leave, let me know."

The nursed followed him out and closed the door being her.

Feeling a sudden chill run down her spine, Irony put a hand on her womb. It felt unnaturally cold to the touch. She rubbed it a little, then poked it a few times to confirm it did not hurt any more. Then she stuffed her boots with her feet, noticing her dagger had gone missing.

"I guess I _do_ need something, but I can't ask it of you."she told herself, determined to find herself a new weapon before leaving.

* * *

(LEGOLAS POV)

As soon as they saw the Godtree not so far from the frontier with Greenwood, Irony jumped off from behind him, ran to the tree and began to climb it. He had gotten only one horse this time, so that the woman would not be able to leave him unnoticed again. He thought he fact that she had been able to hiss herself up in a tree without him hearing it ridiculous. No one had slipped through his hands like that before. She truly had a lot of experience when it came to running away and hiding.

She seemed to feel a lot better today. The ghost of the pain that had haunted her face the days before had completely disappeared.

Glad that at least one of them had recovered from the trauma of her haemorrhage, Legolas did not protest against her climbing the tree despite not finding it wise. She was human: she could slip and knock herself unconscious. Or worse, break her neck and die. _  
_

How she had survived the night he had killed Bolg was a mystery to him. The last time he had glanced at her while caught fighting Bolg, Irony was sitting on the ground, back against a tree and an orc was about to cut her in two halves. Then he felt a terrible cold creep inside him, and the rest of the night took an unexpected turn.

Somehow his fever had gone, and he had felt no more pain nor soreness from his gaping wounds. If anything, he had felt an intense rush of adrenaline, and found he was stronger than he had ever been before. Thanks to that miraculous strength, he had succeeded on killing Bolg rather easily. And once he had been done with the disgusting beast who had taken his mother's life, he realised they were less orcs surrounding him than they had been before. But that might have been his imagination. He killed all of the foul creatures that still lived, then his sudden strength left his body as suddenly as it had come to him, and he found Irony curled up on herself, with more of her blood spilled on the ground than running in her veins.

He had been certain she would have died. And the thought of her being taken away so cruelly from the world had made him cursed Eru once or twice. _No one should die before having truly enjoyed life, _he told himself as he observed her climb the tree. Strangely enough, _he_ was quite enjoying life at the moment. There was something peaceful and agreeable about this simple moment. He had no other responsibility than to ensure the human lived. Granted, death and troubles clung to her children to their mother, but _thankfully you are as hard to kill as a cockroach, _he thought._ I am quite certain if your head was to be cut off you would still live for weeks without it before dying._

Sighing, he unhorsed as well, and headed to the Godtree.

Godtrees were said to be the first trees to have been grown by the Valar. This one was exactly the same as all the other Godtrees he had seen: it had a thick white trunk, dry branches like arms, no leaves and its trunk was empty inside, but you could only notice that last detail if you climbed it all the way to the top. When it rained, water filled the trunk and he had heard that humans priests believed the water taken from there purified souls. But Legolas, like all the other elves, knew it did nothing of the sort. And Irony knew too he supposed. She did not believe in any god, may they be good gods, damned gods, human gods, eleven gods or others... yet she still she cursed all of them when she was angry.

"What are you doing?" he asked, sounding more impatient, than actually was.

"I'm climbing up a tree. Duh!" she answered. Then she looked down at him and she grinned, showing him all of her teeth, obviously knowing her answer would annoy him.

"I can see that." he growled. Legolas touched the tree, and wondered if he should climb after her. Then he looked at the horse, and remembered they had some other place to be, and little time to waste.

"Then why do you ask?!" she yelled at him, sounding amused. He knew just how much she liked to tease him. And thought he reacted too widely to it every time. He wished she had less effect on him. He wanted to yell something back at her, but she was struggling to stand still on a thin branch, and he did not want her to fall, so he kept his words stuffed in his mouth.

"There is only little water left..." he heard her murmur to herself. " 'makes no difference, I'm pissing in it!"

"You will _not_ piss inside a Godstree!" he shouted, while Irony began to unlace the front of her pants, not minding him. He glared at her. This savage act would be most disrespectful and profaning the Valar's work would certainly not help get her on their good side.

"Oh piss off, elf!" she growled staring back at him with her wicked eyes. Then a cute frown formed on her face, causing the skin on her nose to wrinkle, and she laced her pants closed. Legolas allowed his face muscles to relax, and himself to trust that she would now climb down so they could leave. But instead, she spit in the water four times between curses directed to the gods, then roared in laughters, plainly satisfied with herself. _It is sad to know that I have met better mannered goblins..._

"_Why_ did you do that?" he asked, exasperated by her behaviour.

"Why-AAH-" The branch cracked under her weight and she slipped. The elf's brain had not had the time to process that Irony was falling, that his body had moved and he now held her in his arms. And she was a lot heavier than she looked.

He stared at her while she took her time to crack open one eye with hesitation, then the other, looking as happy as one could be for being alive. Legolas had to fight back the urge to shake her hard in order to knock some sense into her. But his body betrayed him and instead, he tightened his grip on her, as though he was afraid she would fall from his arms and break in millions of tiny pieces.

"That was the gods punishing you, just now." he scolded her. "You could have died!" He felt more angry than he should be.

"It's not like you would weep if I died." she growled, squirming to get out of his grip, and failing. The way she distanced herself so fast from everything that happened to her had never annoyed him more than now. So, he released her at once, and she landed on her buttocks. He felt a little bit guilty about having done that when she groaned then ineffectively tried to rub the pain off her butt, all the while offending his ears by cursing in the dark speech.

"You don't know how your death would affect me." he tried to say with as much disinterest than se had used when she spoke. "You don't know the first thing about me."

"Don't I?" she asked smirking. That question puzzled him a little. "One learns more by being around someone, than by talking to them." she assured him.

"What have learned about me then?" he challenged her with.

"I know you are a prince." she said shrugging.

"Even _Bolg_ could could have told you that." Talking of Bolg made him think that if Irony had not been hurt, he would have triple checked the body, instead of only having double checked it.

Irony raised a brow and picked up the challenge. "Alright, here's what he might not have known: you like to _listen_ better than to talk. You like to share what you have. You like animals more than most humans. You like having stars over your head better than a roof."

Legolas could not help but feel flattered that she had noticed all that, despite '_all that' _being obvious enough for about any one to notice.

Irony kept going. "You're also arrogant, dislike it _wildl_y when things don't go your way and usually have the patience of a hungry ferret." That made him scowl, but he did not argue, for there was some truth in her arguments. "You also enjoy eating porridge _only_ when topped with honey. And you have a queer fascination for ears."

"I never-"

"Don't try to deny it," she cut him. He started to wonder seriously if she was gifted with telepathic abilities. "I caught you starring at my ears more than once!" she accused.

He felt his face flush with embarrassment for having been caught at that."How-"

"I'm very observant." She shrugged. Then reached fast to touch _his_ ear.

At first, Legolas froze at the contact then quickly pushed her hand away, cursing in his tongue. "Don't do this!" he exclaimed covering his ear with a hand. "Touching an elf's ear is a very intimate gesture." he explained. It seemed to only make the crazy woman want to touch his ear more for she reached for the other one, more determined than ever.

"Stop it!" he shouted, annoyed before covering his other ear with his other hand. Irony was now trying to remove his hands from his ears, laughing out loud, while he struggled to protect them from her. "I said stop it!" he growled again, but still not convincingly enough for her to stop. He made him feel and act like a child. And she acted like on too: she was biting one of his arms hoping it would hurt him enough for him to uncover his ear. "That's it, I've had enough! Watch out for _your_ ears!" he shouted, before grabbing the tip of one of her ears.

She stopped gesticulating to stared at him, blankly, as if waiting for something to happen. The fact that she did not seem bothered at all by him touching her _ear_, took Legolas aback. Weren't human ears as sensitive to the touch as elven ears? Weren't ears considered a sensual and private part of the body for humans as it was for elves?

At this point Legolas cared not if it were the case or not, for his fingers were already tightly, but gently, wrapped around the intimidatingly _round_ ear. Though he would not admit it, he _had_ stared at her ears, and at other humans' ears, many, many, many times, always wishing to have the opportunity to touch one to satisfy his curiosity. Humans ears were abnormally _round_ for the Valar's sake! And some mortals even had pierced ears! He thought of it as an atrocious mutilation and didn't quite understand why would anyone think it attractive but it made him curious nonetheless.

Fascinated, he rubbed his fingers against the rounded ear, ignoring that Irony was eyeing him like one would a mad man. When he slowly brushed the ear's side from top to bottom with a finger, it _twitched_, making him gasp with delight. "Your ears are so round!" he told her, still amazed. Never before had he seen a rounded ear from this close.

"Is that the only thing you've noticed about me after _all_ that time?" she laughed. They hadn't spend as much time together as she made it sound from the elf's point of view. But he guessed that for a human, a year and a few months must seem long period of time.

Feeling defied, Legolas let go of her to stand straight like the prince he ought to act as."I have also noticed you care for me more than you should." he said giving her one of her own devilish smirks.

For once, the human was speechless.

Still grinning, the elf glanced at Irony's ears one last time, then left her side to find their horse. He would have to set it free before crossing the frontier.

* * *

**A/N** : I was MP-ied to know if Irony had died so I thought I should post this chapter now x) As you can see Irony is well, rested and still mortal. Or is she immortal now? hmm, I wonder (èvé) ... I mean, it would be too easy if she was..Still the Black Knight did tell her he would make her immortal. But was he telling the truth? And even if he had made her immortal, he might very have hidden a few unpleasant details about her newly acquired immortality (if he has made her immortal)...just saying...


	16. Golden Freaks

**Golden Freaks**

Irony regretted having drunk so much water the morning. Now, she had to slip away from the elf for the fifth time today, to make her water, hidden in sick looking bushes she could only hope would not trigger some sort of allergic reaction, and was not hiding anything like the creepy scorpion like creature she had seen a few mile miles away. _Mirkwood, was not nicknamed that for nothing_. Everything about this forest was scary. The trees grew tall and wide, hiding the sun and casting their dark shadows on the floor. The mushrooms had weird colours that made all of them look poisonous. She hadn't seen any sign of living animals anywhere although they were plenty of dead ones, the path they followed was discontinuous and seemed to be trying to loose them, but the worst was that almost everything was covered with white sticky threads, making the wood look like one giant spider net.

"What a plague it is than to have to pee." she growled to herself as she squatted to pee. Since she had woken up in Kindmoss after the haemorrhage, she had developed an insatiable thirst and a monstrous craving for red meat. Unfortunately, there was nothing else to eat than crawling bugs and deformed fruits here. But maybe it was for the best. Since the more water she drunk, the thirstier she became, Irony was glad she could not put her hands on any sort of meat for she feared her craving would amplify like her thirst.

When tying the knots of her pants, she noticed dirt and green leaves fall from above her. Naturally, she looked up. And was she saw struck by both horror and fascination for nothing in her life had prepared her for_ that._

She made no move and held her breath the time for the shadow to pass, then broke into a sprint to find the elf comfortably laying against a tree trunk, relaxing, as though unaware there was nothing relaxing about Mikwood.

"...elf!" she called him once she stood over him. He opened his eyes lazily. "I _may_ have seen a spider." she started. That seemed to alarm him for he stood in a split second, reflexively reaching for his sword. "But considering it was about about the size of a bear, it might have been a bear...only with eight not so hairy legs and a head like a spider's." she finished.

"Where is it?" he asked. His eyes had become those of a cold blooded killer again, and scrutinised the leaves for any sign of movement.

"Uh, gone!" she exclaimed after having purposely let the tension build inside him. "I wouldn't be standing here _right now_ if the...that _thing_ had seen me."she added. The elf furrowed a brow, annoyed, then released his sword.

"We should get going. It might come back this way." he said before making his way ahead. Irony stared at him walking away for few seconds, thinking that Mirkwood was actually the perfect environment to allow a sweet escape and hide from the elf. Then she heard a noise and trotted fast to catch up with him, deciding that she would rather be locked in an elven dungeon for the rest of her life, than spend one hour alone in those woods.

"Is everything that grows in this forest a hundred times bigger than it should be?" she asked, when she caught up with him.

The elf chuckled at her bewilderedness. "_I_ am not a hundred times bigger than I should be." he replied. Lowering his eyes to look at her.

_Is that what she said?_ she thought but did not say. The elf wouldn't understand the joke, she knew, she had tried it before. "Says the creature who towers over all the men I have ever seen." Her answer made the prince grin, what made Irony expect an elf kind of answer from him. He had taken a knack of replying to her questions and remarks by answers that were in no way satisfying and gave nothing up, no matter how you bent it. She was convinced he did that to annoy her, and laugh at her for it made her frown, and he seemed to find the way her nose wrinkled funny.

"Maybe it is everything that grows out of this forest that is smaller than it should be." he told her. And as he had probably expected, she could not help but frown at his answer. "Just like you are smaller than people should be." he added, smirking. And that last comment made Irony frown more deeply, causing her nose to wrinkle and the elf to chuckle again.

Feeling her self control abandon her slowly, Irony stopped walking, causing the elf to the same in order to grant her his full attention, though the smirk never left his lips.

"I'll have you know that for a human woman, I am taller than average." she growled. She did not know what the average height of a woman was, but if she had never been the tallest woman in a room, she had never been even close to be the smallest.

"Surely you won't hold it against me if I tell you I doubt that. Gaining a few cen-" Legolas suddenly reached for his sword and spun on himself to block a blade from shortening him from his head. A taller and seemingly much stronger elf was at the end of the threatening blade, and glared at him coldly with his dark eye, while his lips curled with excitation. He was wearing a full golden armour with green drawings; _or_ writings, Irony could not tell; all over the front of it. He was mostly clean, if not for the viscous grey liquid here and there on his armour.

Irony had been about to shriek so she was startled by the prince's brisk movement, but a not so friendly blade being pressed against her throat prevented her from doing so. It was one of those moments when the end felt so inevitable you could not even be scared of it. Still, having her hands being held roughly in her back, a cold thin beautiful sharp blade around her neck, while 4 red headed elves had their arrows pointed in her direction, was not exactly a _comfortable _situation.

Legolas did not seem to mind though. He was smirking back at the stranger who had attacked him, looking just as excited as him. "Is it my head you just tried to chop off, Commender?" asked the prince on a cruel tone.

"You must forgive me, my lord. My hands slipped." answered the said Commander with a sharp voice. The two elves glared at each other, forgetting they weren't alone, then roared in laughters before lowering their weapons and pulling one another in a tight manly embrace all the while speaking in their tongue.

That did not help Irony. She was still immobilized, and getting tired of fighting for her neck not to touch the blade's edge. Still, the residue of panic she had felt had disappeared for if Legoals was a friend of them, surely he would not let them make wholes all over her body like they seemed to be impatient to do.

A voice called from above. An elf perched on a branch jumped to meet them on the ground. He bowed to Legolas, who answered with a nod then addressed the taller elf, in elvish. Seeing the worry on the soldier's face and being unable to understand what was happening unnerved Irony greatly. By the way all the elves tensed, she knew danger was close by. Well, another danger than elves.

"Spiders?" suddenly said Legolas, his face darkening. He seemed to have forgotten she was even here.

The commender nodded to him." They were eleven of the filths, but we killed two." he said, now looking dead serious. "Nine remain. They're coming this way." He continued speaking in the singing tongue for a small while, then switched to the common tongue again, after Legolas had sung what seemed to be a question. "Tauriel is out destroying their nest and has requested our help, which I granted. They have grown stronger and smarter since you have left. One of the big ones can now easily take out two of ours."

"We are too few here to fight them back right now, we should fall back immediately." Legolas told him.

"We can't." said the taller elf. "Irdhen was bitten by a snake we had never seen before. Its venom has the same effect on us as the cursed spiders bites. Every time we try to move him, it spreads more through his veins. I am afraid that if it reaches the heart, he will die."

Sounding worried, Legolas spoke to him in elvish. Irony sighed noisily hoping to catch the prince's attention, but it did not work.

(Legolas point of view)

He hadn't even exactly arrived home yet, that he was already pulled back into the never ending fight against darkness that cursed Greenwood. Conscious him and every one around him would die if they waited for the spiders to fall on them, Legolas tried to keep his cool and understand exactly what was going on.

"_What are the healers waiting for to heal him?"_ he asked the soldier who had brought the news of the spiders. The elf's face distorted into a sorry grimace.

"_There are no healers with us, my lord._"

Shocked and angered by the answer, Legolas turned to the Commender, Galdor, for this nonsense to be explained.

"The order came form your father following the death of two healers the last time we went out." offered Galdor authoritatively in the common tongue. "_It is for the best. Fighting the spiders while protecting someone has become near impossible._"

"If this one lowers his sword, I'll help." said Irony's irritated voice. Legolas suddenly remembered she was there too. He turned to her, only to see she was trapped between an ellon's chest and his blade. The soldier seemed just as irritated as the human was. The prince would have ordered for her to be released, if Galdor had not spoken first.

"_Why is it that you come back to us with a mortal?"_ asked the Commander, looking down at Irony. The commander did not dislike humans as much as his father did, but like every single elf from this realm, he was not too fond of strangers, and much like Irony did, he distrusted every one he did not know. "_Is she your prisoner?"_

That let Legolas perplex for a second. She was certainly not his prisoner any more, although that was what he was letting her think. If he was bringing her here it was both because he was not ready their ways to part, and because he thought she needed some time off the rest of the world, to rest and see that not all those who live breathe evil in and out.

"_She is..a friend_." he said hesitantly. He hoped Galdor would believe that more than he did. Well that was true enough. They _did_ joke together, laugh together and tease each other. But mostly they distrusted one another and kept their weaknesses secret so that the other would not be tempted to use them wrongly. The inconstant relationship they had puzzled the prince for he had grown to feel a lot of affection for the human, and even come to _like_ most of her defaults. Her inability to feel guilt he now saw as a strength, and the way she managed to convinced him of the most ridiculous things he thought impressive. "_But it is best she is treated like a prisoner for now._ _I'm afraid she would try to run away and get lost in the forest, if she does not feel threatened to stay."_ To that Galdor raised brow, suggesting that the prince's last argument needed more clarification. "_She is silent as you and I when she walks barefoot. And sneaky like a mouse too._" added Legolas, hopping this would be enough of an explanation.

"_It does not tell me __**why**__ you brought her here."_said Galdor sounding unsatisfied.

Reluctantly, the prince articulated a few words. " _She had an Orthanc stone, and kept it away from Azog, Bolg, and Jagah. Other orcs are still after her for it. Also, it seems men from a village in the White Plains wants to gut her."_

"_Where did sh-"_

"Are you two really going to have a conversation **now?!**" rudely interrupted Irony. "When there are monstrous spiders closing on us and a dying elf somewhere?"

Galdor raised a brow at her disrespect but did not seem too offended for she was right. They had no time waste.

"If she says she can help, let her." told the prince to the Commander. "_But give her a weapon under no circumstances. She might slit Irdhen's throat with it."_

At that Galdor eyes filled with more questions about the human. He seemed hesitant to command her release, but eventually did. Between abandoning Irdhen, dying protecting him, killing him so that he would not be eaten alive, giving the benefit of the doubt to Irony seemed like the better option.

Legolas was not sure what he would have done if the Commander had ordered her dead instead, for elves in golden armour only answered to his father and the Commender of all guards _before_ they answered to him. The small unit of elves he had trained himself were the only one who answered to him above anyone else. And of course, he could always count on Tauriel to defy his father and take his party, but the elves of her guard would still die for Galdor if he asked them do.

_Tauriel..._He felt a small pinching sensation when he thought about her. Then the pain was gone and replaced by joy at the thought of seeing her, his _friend_, again. He had missed her badly at the beginning of his adventure and had hated her a little for not loving him back. But eventually, like he had hoped the pain had lessened and he had accepted the fact that the dwarf was who she had chosen to share her love with. What did _not_ mean he had accepted the dwarf himself.

Irony was pushed not so nicely by one of the soldiers to incite her to move towards where Irdhen had been laid down. The fellow did not look half as good as Legolas had hoped: he was sweating and inhaling sharply, and there was a big lump full of a black poison on his left arm. The veins around the foul wound were five times the size they should be and the dark liquid slowly filling them could be seen through his white skin.

Without even looking impressed, the woman knelt near the elf and pushed her hair back to examined the wound without being bothered. She poked the swollen area with care not to hurt Irdhen, who whined nonetheless. Then she lowered her hand to her boot. When her hand reappeared, there was a long knife in it.

All the elves present, including Legolas readied themselves to jump on her. One of them was faster and kicked the weapon out of her hand. The prince sighed in relief for Irdhen, wondering when she had gotten herself a dagger, and for how long she had had it. He also thought that the kick she had received would bruise her badly and was sorry for it.

To Legolas' relief, Irony was not a fool and knew better than to panic or try to flee her captors. The woman slowly raised her hands above her head, where everyone could see them, and turned to the aggressive elves. "Relax." she told them, incredibly calm for someone in her situation. "I was not and will not hurt your friend." she assured them, unknowing that apart from Galdor and him, at best one out of all the others understood the common tongue. "I just need something pointy and clean to pierce this..._bulb_ so the poison may spill out of it." she explained. "But now that my dagger is covered in mud, I will need another one."

Galdor looked at Legolas to know if he should trust Irony. Legolas nodded to him with determination, and reluctantly, the Commender handed Irony his own dagger, holding the woman's gaze for a long second before actually letting her take it.

Judging all the tension having brought Irony this deep in the realm was causing, the prince wondered what would happen once she would be inside the castle. That is, if she was ever let in the castle, and something told him that unless Galdor vouched for her to his father, the human would have to sleep outside of the gates.

Concentrating, Irony pointed the dagger at the bulb, and pierced it while a soldier helped hold Irdhen down. Black liquid spilled on the grass, and when she pressed on the swollen skin, more poison flowed out. Irony inspected the wound again, and traced one of Irdhen's black veins with her index. Then, seemingly having understood that Galdor was in charge, Irony looked at him. "Do you have some oil? Or...any oily substance?"

"Would tree seed be fit for...whatever you need it for?" answered the Commender.

"As long it is much thicker than water, yet liquid and viscous, yes."

Galdor looked around then turned too an elleth. "_Barahel fill this with that grey tree's seed_." he ordered while handing her an empty skin. While the elleth did as she was told, Irony ripped one of her sleeves off and tied it tightly under the bite on the ellon's arm.

When she was finally given the skin, she brought it to her mouth, but Galdor prevented her from drinking it. "Do not drink it, human!" he exclaimed. "It is not poisonous to elves, but it might be for humans as it is for most animals."

Unexpectedly, Irony let her mischievous smile show on her face. "Don't worry, I'm a good girl, I know when not to swallow." she told the Commender. He let go her hand and as she started to gargle the liquid he turned to Legolas.

"_Have I implied that she did not act the way proper human woman should, somehow?_"

"_No, I do not think you did. But knowing her, I can assure you that it is best we do not ask for an explanation, Galdor. The answers she gives are oft inappropriate beyond words._"

Galdor raised a brow, then rolled his eyes and shook his head as if he had suddenly come to understand what the woman had meant, and thought it to be silly. The prince wished he had such a talent as to understand Irony's strange sayings.

Irony spit the tree seed on the ground after having gargled it for a long time, then put her lips around the wound and started sucking the poison out. None of the elves present could hide their disgust at the scene despite the fact that were averted soldiers. Irony paid them no mind and spit out the venom she had sucked in her mouth. Then she gargled tree seed again, and started sucking on the wound, and repeated those actions until Irdhen's vein had considerably reduced.

"There, it's done." she said standing up, before wiping her mouth. " What little poison is left would take a fortnights to kill him."

"Are you a healer of the race of men?" asked Galdor, impressed. Irdhen seemed to still be pained and tired from the effort, but he was not sweating any more.

"No. I learned that trick from the orcs." Irony said shrugging. Legolas cursed in his head. He had intended on avoiding to mention that. He knew she was clever enough to know that information would not help her befriend any elf, and wondered why she had let it out. Then he remembered that he had her believing she was to be punished for her crimes, he realised she was assuming all the truth would come out one way or another. "They are plenty of snakes under the grey skies."

Galdor immediately threw a look of disapproval to the prince. Smiling innocently Legolas searched for an explanation to give. But he find none. "_It is a long story._" said the prince, sighing deeply.

"Thank you for saving his life, woman. I am in your debt." the commender told Irony curtly. Irony gave another shrug as sole answer, and Galdor turned to the prince again. "_You might want to tell me all about that long story before we reach the castle."_

Galdor ordered to the others to start making for home. Taking Irdhen with them, they started walking away. Irony watched them leave as they left, then turned to Legolas, with a confused expression on. The elf smiled at her so that she would not worry about anything. And she replied by a pleasant smile. But the prince knew by the way she glanced at Galdor now and then, that in truth, she was leery and ready to react shall the commender, or even him, try any thing suspicious. And judging by the bulge in her boot, she had picked her dagger up when no one was paying her any attention. _A little fox, you are, _he thought, admiring her survival instinct.

When Galdor started walking after his soldiers, Legolas readied himself to follow him but the commender prevented him from doing so by putting a hand on the prince's chest. " _Shall I be wary of her magic_?" he asked.

"_What do you speak of ? She knows naught of magic, let alone believe in it." _argued the prince.

"_Have you ever been in contact with the black venom?_" the commender asked Legolas. The prince shook his head. He had never been bit by a spider and the thought of touching the dark liquid coming out of a wounded elf's injury had never crossed his mind. "_Simple contact with it burns the skin. Yet __**she**__ could handle having a mouth full of it. If there is no magic to it, then she is a creature of dark, and it is best she goes no further."_

"_Have you witnessed a human being in contact with this kind of venom before?_" asked the Legolas. Galdor squinted his eyes, knowing where this was going, but shook his head, and waited for the prince to speak. "_It may be that like what isn't poisonous to us can be to them, what isn't poisonous to them can be to us_."

"_You are a smart elfling, Legolas_." said Galdor, meaning his words. "_But until you can prove that this liquid is not, in fact, poisonous to humans and not just to her, I will always have both eyes on her." _Galdor looked at Irony. She was drinking her skin dry of water, pretending to ignore them very convincingly.

The commander put a friendly hand on the prince's shoulder. "_I will let her past the gates for she saved Irdhen,but I cannot guarantee you father will not throw her right back outside." _

"_I understand._" said Legolas. "_Letting her past the gates is all I should ask of you but...I have another favour to ask. I know he is your friend, but can you keep your doubts about her from my father, at least until the morrow?_"

"_Sorry, boy, but even if I agreed to keep this from my friend, I could not keep it from my kin_g." With that Galdor left. There was never a most dutiful elf on this earth than the Commender.

"From now on we're following them." he told Irony trying not to sound worried.

Irony walked passed him, then spun around to face him, and walking backwards she closed her fists and raised her middle fingers. "I told you I could be useful." she said smirking. Then she spun back around, and walked ahead of him, towards Galdor. Legolas did not know the significance of that gesture, but guessed it was meant to be offending, and so he felt offended.

* * *

**A/N:** So, if they don't get eaten by spiders first, soon they'll arrive in the Elven King's castle. I wonder just how **thrilled** Thranduil will be about having a random human commoner over...


	17. Trusting the dog

**Trusting the dog in the castle**

Irony survived the orcs, a war she should **never** have witnessed, slaves sellers, Legolas, crazy villagers, an orc raid, Guill and his men, Bolg, the Black knight, the deep of Mirkwood and yet, she was more terrified than she had ever been to face the king a second time.

She remembered him very well from the war. A gigantic elf with silver hair, broad shoulders, and an incredibly _bitchy_ face. She had liked him very little the first time they had met, and had a feeling that she would not like him any bit more after seeing him a second time, in a few minutes.

When the massive doors had opened to let the Commender in, alone, in what seemed to be a throne room, Irony had had a glimpse at the king. He was wearing a robe that she thought tacky even for an elf. His voice had grounded inside the room yet his face had remained was imperturbable. She was certain reading the King's thoughts would make guessing the Dark Knight's intentions seem easy in comparison.

While she awaited to be received along with Legolas, she found comfort in that the prince seemed just as agitated as she was. He had both hands on her shoulders, and she could feel his fingers tap on her skin nervously.

Then suddenly he released her and exchanged a few words in elvish nonsense with the guards, before turning to her.

"Remember," started Legolas. "My father smells _fear_. Fear means _danger_ to him. And danger he likes not."

Irony tugged at the elf's sleeve like a four years old would do until the elf caught her hands in his si that she would stop. "Do _I_ have to be there? Can't you go by yourself? Or just...put me in a cell and be done with it?" She tried hard not to sound like the fours years old child she was acting like._ I have reached a new low: now I beg to be imprisoned._

Legolas shook his head. "A cell won't do for you. _You_ could escape easily enough."

"That compliment is _almost_ touching." she growled taking her hands away from his. The elf raised a brow and seemed to be about to say something when suddenly, the massive doors of the throne room opened again, for them to enter.

Long and thing stairs led up, up, and up to the throne on which sat the king. Irony tried not look at him too much, but the glittering robe he wore was impossible to ignore. His face was differently expressive than all the faces she had seen before. She could not tell if he was happy to see his son, disappointed to see him coming back _without strider_, or angry to see a human in his castle. It could have been all three or neither one of those suppositions.

Contrary to the king who acted as thought she was not there, Galdor stared at her with intensity. The last thing she wanted being to attract any suspicion or attention of any sort, she played dumb and pretended to be incredibly impressed with the elven cave. And looking around the throne room, she decided it was not a place to hide in if need be, for the only way in was the only way out. So far, escaping from the castle promised to be one hell of a nightmare. The interminable stairs that climbed every walls allowed every one to see everywhere, the corridors met at many places forming a challenging labyrinth and even if she somehow managed to find her way through it unseen, she could hardly go through the golden guards at the main entrance.

The king and his son spoke in elvish for a long, long time, during which Irony's stress went down and let boredom take replace it. At some point, Legolas showed the Orthanc stone to his father, who did no more than furrow his thick eyebrows ever so lightly. Then the prince covered the round object again and Galdor came to take it away from him.

While his father and Galdor were busy talking to one another, probably about the magic stone, Legolas turned to wink at her discretely. The friendly gesture only made her raise a brow interrogatively.

"Come forth, human." ordered the king. Bringing her attention to him, Irony relaxed her facial muscles. She came as close as she dared, meaning, that she took exactly two steps forward before freezing. "My son tells me you saw that he found his way back to me safely, saving his life no less than three times." he said. Irony opened her mouth but said nothing. That was only half true. Had Legolas forgotten how their first encounter went? She had saved his life in the end, but she had meant for him to die at first. "I am grateful." declared the king, without looking nor sounding grateful for the least. "And to prove my gratitude, I offer you shelter, until you are rested, and our healers can ensure you will not suffer from another haemorrhage."

Irony shifted uncomfortably. She did not like that Legolas had told his father about her vagina bleeding senselessly. Also, what if elven healers could, somehow, find out about the deal she had made with the Black Knight by examining her? Maybe they wouldn't care since it was none of their business...but something told her it _would_ bother the elves somehow.

"I..thank you...err.. your grace." Irony bowed as low and graciously as she could and trotted towards Legolas who stood near the doors, and asked for them to be opened once she was near him.

Irony waited for the doors to close behind them before talking. "I thought I was to be caged?"

"I decided you had suffered enough so I asked my father to be merciful. And since he was so glad to see me whole, he was incredibly clement to you."

"He was indeed." she answered, still confused. "I'd hug you if I didn't know you would back off like a little girl." she teased.

"How would you know for sure if you do not try hugging me?" The corner of his lips curled slightly on both side. Irony raised both brows. She had not expected this sort of come-back from _him_.

"Are you _flirting_ with me, elf?" she asked, half laughing.

"I am merely just stating a fact." he replied, smiling less innocently than usual. So without hesitation, Irony threw herself in the prince's arm. And although she was certain he would hug her back, instead he pushed her away, just as the massive doors opened and the king stepped out of the throne room. The crowned elf looked down at her, then at his son. He exchanged a few words with Legolas, who nodded back to him.

Irony saw Legolas put on his prince face. "Bodhien will show you to the healing quarters." he told her. "I must go now, but I will find you later and see that you have all you need, my _lady_." With that he _bowed_ to her and trotted left with his father.

A cold chill crept down Irony's back as she realised she had stepped in the elven court, where she belonged even less than the dungeons. And Legolas calling her a _lady_ had, in addition of putting distance between them, made her realise how far she was from being one. Sure, she learned fast so no doubt that in a week she would flutter her eyelashes like a lady, put on tight corsets like a lady, and know by heart all those useless and empty courtesies lords and ladies exchanged, but that would never make her an actual lady.

_A dog living in a castle remains a dog, s_he thought bitterly.

* * *

Utterly annoyed, Irony snorted when she realised the elf who had examined her did not speak the common tongue. She then tried to communicate with him by using the dark speech, which she knew most elves understood, but hearing it only startled him and earned her glares and a good scolding she did not understand a word of.

She tried looking at the guard, Bodhien, for help, but just like he had ignored her while walking her here, he was ignoring her now.

Something told her absolutely none of the wood elves would try to make her stay enjoyable. Though, she doubted they would try to make it a hell either. They seemed like the type to be fully contempt by pretending she was not here, all the while granting her the minimum of courtesy and respect all living being deserved. But after the warm welcoming she had had from the Commender and his men, she had prepared herself for _much_ worse.

"I don't understand what you are saying. How many times do I have to tell you?" she told the healer, again. "Oh, wait! I can keep asking you that until I grow roots because you don't understand a single word I say either!"

The healer stared at her blankly for second, they began to speak elvish nonsense to her again. She rolled her eyes, and deciding she could keep on living without knowing the meaning of his ranting, she made for the door.

But Bodhien stood in her way. She took a step right to go around him, but he moved in front of her again. So she tried going left, but he blocked her way _again_. Irony sighed, and pretended to right again, and when the golden guard moved to stand in her way, she quickly changed direction and went left. Probably startled, Bodhien did not turn to follow her before she had reached for the door knob. And as the guard remover her hand from it, the door opened and Legolas stepped inside the room.

Bodhien released her immediately to bow to the prince, the healer did as much, and Legolas answered them both with a nod.

He had gotten rid of his blend green tunic and brown pants, for a light blue tunic embroiled with silver threads, and a pair of the whitest pants Irony had ever seen. Yet, what she could not take her eyes off was the thin circlet made of gold and silver around his head. The fact that he was a prince suddenly _hit_ her. Almost literally. She had known that all along, but had not realised it until now, somehow. However right now, there was no way to overlook the fact that Legolas was en elven prince. He was royalty.

"What news of your health?" he asked her, tearing her from her confusion.

She shrugged. "You tell me." She turned to point at the healer. "This one does not speak the common tongue and won't use the black speech." She pointed ta Bodhien. "And that one won't speak to me at all."

"Ah! I forgot to warn you..." sighed Legolas. "No elf likes to hear nor speak the foul language. There is no law about it, but it is commonly accepted among us that no one is to ever utter it." He glanced at the golden guard. "As for Bodhien, most of the elves from this realm only understand elvish tongues and none of the humans' ones. Plus, as your guard, not addressing you under any circumstance is part of his duty."

"Oh, so I am no guest in the end, I am just a prisoner with a golden walking pass to wander around." she snarled.

"It is just a precaution my father sees fit considering your past. You are nonetheless a guest, here." he assured her. She believed none of it. Even when he added, "My guest of honour."

"Am I free to leave when I please, then?" Legolas chose to ignore that question and turned to the healer. That reaction was enough to prove her doubts were founded, and that the castle was to be a cage. A luxurious cage, but a cage still.

"The healer says, he may need to collect another sample of your blood in a few days. But for as far he can tell, you are as healthy as a mortal can be." the prince told her smiling. She had thought that hearing something of the sort would comfort her, but it had the opposite effect. _And how am I to take this since I am supposedly no longer mortal? _Irony smiled back at him politely, careful not to let him see she was troubled.

Legolas spoke to the healer again, and both him and Bodhien left the room, closing the door behind them.

"Quick, take off your boots." he told her sounding a lot less gentle than a second ago. Confused, Irony complied. Of course the dagger she had hidden fall off. Without looking surprised, Legolas picked it up and hid it inside _his_ boot. Then from his other boot, he took out another dagger. "Here, take this." He pushed the item in her hand. Irony took the small blade out of its sheath. This one was thinner and sharper by far than the other one. "It is elven made. And if you do not want it taken away from you, bind it to your ankle sheathed before putting your boots back on. Now, do it quickly, before anyone sees this."

She did as she was told and hurried to grab some aid bands the healer had left, to bind the weapon tightly to her leg. "Why are y-"

"Wood elves are quick to act, and sometimes slow to think. And we are _all_ wary of outsiders." he warned, as he helped her put her shoes back on. "Take it as a sign of trust from me to you." he added with a quick genuine smile, that made her heart skip a beat. "Now stand, they will be back any second." he whispered the very second before the door opened.

Bodhien was holding a wooden box, full of flacons and soaps. The healer exchanged some word with Legolas again, then they nodded to each other and the prince turned to her.

"Now, let me walk you to your room, my lady." he said extending his arm to her. The gesture was unexpected but she took his arm anyway, and pretending to be high born, she let him guide her out of the healing quarter. He had never sounded more like the prince he was before this very moment."We may live in a cave, but you will find more comfort here than in all the human realms put together." he told her proudly.

Bodhien was walking close behind them, still carrying the box. The smell coming from the flacons was wonderful, and made Irony self-conscious of her owns smell that was not so nice at the moment.

"Doe he has to be here when you are with me?" she asked.

"He has to follow you _everywhere_ you go. But he will never enter your bedroom unless he is ordered to do so, or you are in need of help." he assured her. "But he will be waiting outside every room you will enter, and come in with you when it comes to the healing quarters and others public areas. Do not worry, you will get used to him soon enough. Try to focus on the good things instead: you can finally have a taste of the peace you have longed for."

Irony smiled as an answer. She did not doubt everything that would be lent and given to her would surpass her expectations _by far_. And the 'taste' of tranquillity Legolas was promising her sounded appetizing. She would have rejoiced at the perspective of her stay in Mirkwood, hadn't he given her a dagger for her safety minutes ago, trying to make it look like a genuine act of trust.

* * *

**A/N:** Irony's first day in Mirkwood. How could things ever go wrong from there, I wonder?!


	18. All the fixing needed

**All the fixing needed**

(IRONY POV)

Irony was waiting sitting on bench, observing random elves interacting with one another. Bodhien stood behind her, unconcerned. Bodhien _always_ stood behind her unconcerned. He was her shadow. Her_ terribly boring_ shadow. And since he still would not utter word to her in any language, Irony spent her days observing elves rather than learning about them from the guard.

She found elves and humans were very different though she could see the resemblance between the two species. On one hand, like mortals, immortals had social needs; they had jobs; and even quarrelled with one another from time to time. On the other hand, while humans worried about going through the day, elves seemed only concerned by arts. All types of arts. The pointy eared creatures, enjoyed singing, sculpting, dancing, sewing, building, fighting and all the rest. There was no end to how they kept busy with their hobbies. And yet, even when they had dirtying hobby, they were always clean. They were also all tall _and_ beautiful, _and_ gracious, _and_ polite, _and_ smart.

Irony thought Legolas almost plain now that she had seen other elves. He was just a perfect creature among other perfect creatures, only, he had blond hair when most of the others were red haired. Also she found the prince was not as polite as the others were and seemed even more restless than them. The blond elf seemed to be everywhere at the same time: Irony would see him 'there' from afar, training, all sweaty with his new short swords, then she would see him 'here' looking serious, talking to some lord.

And the lords and ladies were many, or so she thought. She had never seen that many for she had never been in city that big before. She could not distinguish them from the common elves though. To her all elves had posh faces, dressed in the same fancy way, spoke on the same tone, walked as though they were clouds under their feet, and _I bet they all shit the same way. __**If**__ elves shit at all._

She sighed. She was growing tired and bored of waiting. She had been waiting for a week. At first she hadn't minded the wait for being some place new meant having a lot to discover. But after the first days she had already almost seen it all; the halls, the corridors, the libraries, the stables, the training grounds, the gardens, and she couldn't care less about gardens; they were just a bunch of plants growing in the same place. Plus she thought having gardens when living in a forest was a rather ridiculous concept.

She was bored. Up until now, her life had always been full of adventures, most of them unpleasant, but at least entertaining. Still, she would not admit to herself that she missed the frightening and exciting sensation that death was close by when she finally had the peace she had wished to have.

But maybe it wasn't the a lack of action in her life that she found boring. Maybe it was just that she didn't fit in. She had no real companion, Bodhien was always looking at what she was doing from behind her back, she cared not about nature no matter how huge the trees were, she craved for red meat but the elves ate none and therefore _served_ none, the elven dresses did not compliment her as well as it did she-elves, and she was never so self-conscious about her broken nose than now that she was surrounded by perfection.

She sighed again feeling stupid for not being satisfied with what she had when she had never had so much before. And she had never felt the need to complain before. Maybe possessing things did that to you, made you think you needed more, deserved even better.

"Have you suddenly remembered my existence?" she said when what she had been waiting for the past few days finally happened: that is to say that the damn elf who had brought her here was finally gracing her with his presence.

"It is hard to forget about your existence when no elf in this realm speak of anything else than the human living among us." he said extending his hand to help her up. Irony raised a curious brow at his courteousness but eventually took his hand. "And why complain about my not presenting myself to your door every morning when all the while we were travelling together you expressed your annoyance about seeing my face every day?" He smirked. Had Irony been in a better mood, she would have answered to the provocation.

"Still I haven't seen you for a week's time," she started frowning, "Why suddenly show up?" she asked, curious. "I thought you done with my case." _And fairly so. _After all, she had had absolutely no news from him, nor of him for a whole week. And it was not like she was his responsibility, so if he did not wish to see her, then he did not _have to_ see her. All in all, he had no real reason to be here right now. So what was this about? Why was he leading her back inside?

"The healers requested that you be brought to them so that they could gather another blood sample. I thought I should escort you to them and help you communicate with them." he offered smiling pleasantly. She had been about to bark about that but the prince spoke faster. "A week's time since we have last seen one another, you said? Am I to understand that you have been counting the days without me?"

The elf had her at that. "Yes." she admitted half-heartedly. Her reaction made his grin grow. He deserved to be punched in the face for the things he made her do. Things like counting the days during which she did not see him. _How old am I to act like such a silly little girl?_ "I did not have much else to do, you see. Barely any one understands my tongue, and those who do never speak to me for a long time." That was true. Apart from the golden soldiers, every one was friendly to her though no one actually tried to _befriend_ her and therefore, if it weren't for Bodhien, she would be alone most the time. Not that she minded being alone. She just enjoyed it more when she was not actually surrounded by people, making her crave for having a social life.

"Please, do not take it personally, we, elves, just like to keep to ourselves." he offered softly. He sounded a bit annoyed by that trait of his kin. "Plus the dealings we have had with other species are too few. Many of us had never seen a human before the war near Laketown." he explained, still leading her through corridors. Irony noticed for the first time that the safe distance he used to keep from her had considerably reduced. They were walking so close to one another that their hands touched now and then. "And for those who did not take part in the war, you are the very first human they have ever seen." he added. She arched a brow at that. For knowledge craving creatures, the elves from Mirkwood sure sounded to know little about the rest of the world. "I am constantly asked questions about you, you know."

"What do they want to know?"

"Why you walk so briskly, why you do not seem impressed by our woods, what language do you speak, if they are things you do not eat, how old you are, and many other random questions." he told her. "But there is only one question I can never answer." Irony looked at him curiously. "Why were you named 'irony'?" he asked. "Is it due to some sort of human tradition?"

Irony snorted. She had been asked that so many times. "No, it most definitely is not due to a tradition. I was named that because...well..it's a long story." she said sighing lazily.

The elf seemed unable accept that answer. "It is a long walk to the healing quarters."

Irony sighed again. She could ignore Legolas, but he seemed to be in a exceptionally pleasant mood, and she did not want to ruin his day just because she was feeling bitter so she resolved herself to speak. "The man who raised me along with my mother did not father me 'though I called him father not to shame him." she started. The prince seemed slightly uncomfortable hearing that. "He had changed woman until he eventually realized _he_ was the reason why his wives could not give him an heir. But my Ma' did not know that. She bedded another man, just once, on a moment of weakness. And that's how I came to be." She licked her lips before starting again. "She thought it ironic that the _one_ time she misbehaved in her life, she got pregnant, so she named me 'irony'. She used to say that I was her 'sweet ironic curse', because the man who fathered me told her I was a cursed child for I was born of adultery."

The elf seemed to hesitate as to what to answer. "Everything about that name suits you." he finally mouthed. He obviously thought her story sad. "Irony." he said, just to hear the name. "I like the way it sounds in my ears. It is both sharp and soft at the same time."

And just like that, Irony's day suddenly seemed brighter. "My ass likes the sound if it too." she told him smirking. The prince rolled his eyes at that. "'Irony' is is no name." she started again. "Though I must agree that it fits me well."

The rest of the walk was done all the while chatting mindlessly. Both of them had much to share with the other. And although the past few days were full of events for Legolas and rather repetitive for Irony, the elf seemed to enjoy hearing about her stay more than talking about his royal duties and other occupations. He did not elaborate about Tauriel either. Irony noted that he had mentioned her name happily a few times. Needless to say that she felt a little jealous of the elleth. The elf had probably been spending all of his free time with _her_. '_Her_' whom he liked so dearly.

* * *

As she sat in a heavy silence, while an unknown elf skilfully drained some blood out of her vein, Legolas grimaced almost discretely at the dark blood spilling in a recipient. She wondered if her blood had always been so dark. But she could not remember. She had never spent much time staring at her blood before. The colour it had had never mattered before. And now it seemed like something she should pay attention to. _How weird is it that the most insignificant things can become so important over a night. _

She stared at the two elves in rooms as they spoke in their singing tongue on a rather agitated tone. She supposed Legolas was trying to convince the other elf of something for the healer seemed hesitant while Legolas grimaced as he glanced at her blood when the healer pointed at it.

_It is about time I make up plan to leave;_ she thought, _I have a bad feeling about those tests they want to run with my blood._.. The healer removed the tube-like string he had somehow pinned to her arm, stopped the bleeding by pressing a cloth on the small cut, then picked the container and left silently.

Legolas turned to her and gave her a worried look. "Are you feeling light headed?" he asked. She shook her head. "He wanted to take more of your blood and I had to dissuade him. " He took the arm from which she had been bled, to examine the vein from which the blood had been drained out. "This will bruise, he was too rough." he scowled.

Another healer entered the room. A female this time. She bowed and said something that Irony guessed was a greeting. Then without warning, she pressed her palm on her forehead, then poked her between the shoulder plates, on both side of the lower back, behind the knees. Irony guessed this was a common examination for elves, so she did not fight against it.

When the elleth opened her corset just enough to slip a hand under it in order to apply some pressure on her belly, Legolas became reckless, seemingly focusing hard in order not to look at the scene. But Irony caught him peeking twice, what made him blush and turn around so that he wouldn't be tempted.

Once she was done, the elleth let Irony close her corset and began to speak to the prince. At some point she walked back to Irony and brushed her hair lightly. Whatever she had said did not please Legolas so much for he frowned and answered growling as politely as possible. Far from being offended the elleth, chuckled and repeated whatever she had told him a few seconds before. The prince sighed and looking defeated, he turned to Irony. "I am told that your broken nose can be fixed in two days time should you want it fixed. She is also offering to give you oils that will fasten the growth of your hair." he informed her. Irony glanced at the healer; she was staring at her hair with a pity in her eye.

Irony did not rush to answer. She took a long moment to think. She had loved having long hair, it had made her feel feminine and sensual when they brushed the middle of her back. However, having short hair had proved to be more comfortable and less bothering for it didn't require as much taking care of than long hair._ Maybe I should keep my hair short. But the nose...I can't keep it broken, can I? _She brought her hand to feel it where it was crooked. She blamed its deformity for making her so much _less_ prettier than the female elves, and if it was to be fixed...well, then she would have to accept that nature had not graced her with beauty. She was not ugly either but...she looked so average it was disconcerting.

"My opinion may not matter but..." began Legolas hesitantly, as he scratched the back of his head timidly. "I like your hair and nose the way they are now. They fit your personality."

She narrowed her eyes; he was literally begging for it, wasn't he? " Was that meant as a compliment?" she asked pretending to be offended. She knew it was a compliment. One only Legolas could say so clumsily. Taken aback, the elf was unable to give her an immediate answer and the panic showing on his face caused her to laugh. "If it is a complement, that you like my nose and hair the way they are, and that they fit my personality so well, am I to understand that you like who I am as well?" she teased.

The tip of the prince's ears twitched, probably with embarrassment, and his brows furrowed in an usual way. "It is not what I said." he mumbled like an angry four years old child would. "But I do _occasionally_ enjoy your company." he admitted.

"Occasionally, uh?" she repeated. "That must be the reason why you 'grace' me with your presence so often." she retorted. Her remark made the elf put a more serious expression on.

"If I could make more time for you, I would." It burst out of his mouth so rapidly, Irony could tell he had not had the time to think those words before he had said them. Yet, the elf did not seem to feel shamed nor shy about what he had said. He even seemed ready to repeat those words proudly again, yet, what came out of his mouth was something different, "What would you have me tell the healer?"

"I need time to consider it." she answered still unsure of what she wanted. She liked that _he_ liked the way she looked, but she also wished to have her nose back to normal,_ the way it was meant to be_.

(LEGOLAS POV)

If it would not have been considered inappropriate, Legolas would have kissed the small bump where her nose had been broken, and told her that it was all the fixing it needed.

"I should walk you back to your guard then." he said before dismissing the elleth. The human stood without arguing though she did not seem too pleased.

He had hoped that once she would have seen the woods, _his woods_, she would have fallen in love with them but so far, it seemed that she cared no more about Greenwood The Great, than she had cared about any of the other woods they had walked through together. Still_,_ he thought that all she needed was more time to find her place here, among his people. Since she wasn't despised by the elves, she would eventually make friends and maybe even stay in Greenwood willingly. For a long time. As much time she could allow herself to spend there, no matter how short that time was.

As they walked silently, he noticed that her head was almost as high as his shoulders were. _Was she always so short?_ he wondered. His eyes then moved down to her neck. She wore no necklace and the collar of her dress did not cover it. It was exposed, completely naked, and very sensual, he thought. He observed the rest of her and realized that all of her was plain: she was wider than ellith, but not as curvy as the maids in Greytown were, the dress she wore was made of only one fabric and had no embroidery on it, she wore no jewels and did not put pink on her cheeks nor red on her lips although she had been given all a woman could need to compliment her skin and body.

Legolas decided that he liked the simplicity of her attire. There was something paradoxical about it; she wore simplicity with pretentiousness. She needn't jewels and ribbons to walk with as much self-assurance as the others did. He envied her for daring to be herself, and proudly so.

Looking at her made him wonder if he seemed false to her now that he only wore fine clothes, or if she liked him all clean and well dressed better. Did she even _like_ the prince? Or were the feelings she had grown for him only meant for the ranger? Unsure as to which answer he would enjoy hearing most, he decided to worry more about the reason why he even cared about what the human thought of him.

"It seems my guard has wandered off..." she said tearing him out of his thoughts. He looked up; they had arrived in front of her chamber, and Bodhien was, indeed, no where to be seen. Legolas wondered if the guard had gone to report the woman's activities to Galdor and his father. If he disapproved of their exaggerated distrust towards Irony, he was grateful to be granted a few more minutes_ alone,_with her right now.

Wanting to be a good host, and a gentleman, he opened the door for her to enter her chamber. She entered without giving him so much as a glance. _She is so moody today_, he told himself as the corners of his lips curled slightly. Fro some mysterious reason, he liked her temper.

"May I come in?" he asked politely.

"This is your castle, isn't it?" she retorted raising a brow at him. Deciding it was best not to annoy her further, Legolas invited himself in, and closed the door behind him.

Privacy. He had missed that. It was so hard to be alone in the castle. Well, Irony was there too, but he didn't mind her. He was too used to her constantly being somewhere around him. It had been weird to get accustomed to not watching out for her the first few days after his arrival home. Sometimes he had turned around abruptly, thinking that he had forgotten to warn her of something, then he had remembered than she was not walking behind him anymore.

As they stood alone, in the cosy room, the elf stared at the human awkwardly, and the woman stared right back at him just as awkwardly. The silence and lack of action was weighting on Legolas. He felt as though he was supposed to do something, or at the very least _say_ something, but he was clueless as to what to either do or say.

At some point, seemingly growing impatient, Irony spoke. "You like me better with my broken nose," she started as she looked up at his forehead, "and I like you better without those circlets of yours." she growled. The prince raised both brows. Though he was royalty, he hated wearing a crown, but he liked his circlets. "Don't get me wrong, they are well made, and they suit your pretty prince head, but they don't suit who you are so much." Had she not wrinkled her nose the way he found adorable, he would have answered not so pleasantly to her unwelcomed criticism. "I bet if you took it off more often, you'd remember about_ my being here_ more often." she added as her frown deepened.

Although her speaking frankly had offended him a little, the prince could not help but think that she was right. She was right so often she could have been an elf. _But she is mortal_, he reminded himself as he took off his circlet, and bent down to gently kiss her nose where it was crooked and all wrinkled because she was frowning.

* * *

**A/N: **

I wrote this chapter at the last minute thinking that I should develop more the two characters, their insecurities and the way they perceive one another. The next chapter will also be quite slow for I do not want them from to go from "oooh, she likes him BD" straight to "omg she is getting the D, and having his babies and getting married 8O" or anything of the sort.

I hope this doesn't bore you as much as the elves bore Irony x) But don't worry too much, the next chapter will be more entertaining than this one.

Also, I am sooo enjoying making Legolas a little bit petty.


	19. Pink faced monsters and blurred lines

**Pink faced monsters and blurred lines **

(Irony POV)

The joyful screams of children laughters mixed with the singing of birds work Irony up. Any one else might have thought the sound endearing but it made Irony hiss like angry cat. _Why do they have to be so loud, so early in the morning?_she wondered, covering her face with her pillow, as she tried to sink under her thick comfortable covers. But nothing helped, the children's stinging voices echoed in the room as though they were standing on her face, playing right near her ear. Sighing, she removed the pillow and kicked her covers off the bed, to stand and look through the window.

The children were numerous. There was about a hundred of those tiny pink faced monsters running all over the place, yelling under the unnervingly too bright and too warm sun, under her window.

_They could not be more annoying if they tried_. And right when the thought crossed her mind, one of the brats pointed at her, and shouted something. Most of the others stopped whatever they had been doing to stare at her with round shiny eyes full of curiosity. Then all of them began to point at her as they sung a song she had never heard before. The elves she supposed were their nannies seemed bothered by their behaviour. Sprouting to their feet, they surrounded the children and attempted to quiet them, but since they were only four of them, their soft voices were lost among the children's loud one.

Deciding she had heard enough, Irony removed her head from the window's square. As soon as she had move away, the children grew louder. So she looked out of the window again, curious to see what had happened. But nothing had happened. The children just wanted her to show her face again. But she had no intention letting herself be treated like a bizarreness, so she stepped away and this time, closed the window. She could still hear them yell in disappointment, but she decided to ignore them.

Yet, it seemed that the children were determined to have the end of her. Sometime after she had closed the window, someone knocked on her door. She opened it, taking note that Bodhien was still stationed right outside of her room. One of the nannies she had seen with the kids stood near the guard, and taking the opening of the door as an invitation, she let herself in. _Rude, _thought Irony_._

The elleth's face was pink with embarrassment as she began to speak words on an apologetic tone. Then, with pleading eyes, she said something else. Something that sounded more like a question.

"I don 't understand..." offered Irony. The elleth frowned a bit, and repeated her sentence on a more insistent tone. "Truly, I have no fucking idea of what you are asking from me."

The she-elf looked at her feet, thoughtful. Irony thought the creature strange. She had the appearance of a woman in her early twenties, only inhumanly beautiful and with pointy ears, but something about the way her eyes shone told Irony the she-elf must have lived for far longer than two short decades.

Suddenly, the elleth sprinted to Irony's window, opened it, and pointed down, towards where Irony guessed the children were still playing. "You want me to look through the window?" asked the human cocking a brow. Could a grown adult be asking her to make a show out of herself for the amusement of the pointy eared brats?

The elleth raised a brow at her, obviously not having understood what she had been asked. Her sweet smile never leaving her lips, the elleth began to point at the door one hand, mimicking someone walking with the other one.

"No." Irony whispered, not wanting to follow the she-elf outside. She did not like human children, and so far, she liked elven children just as little. Maybe even less, it that was possible. But her protest must have been too weak for the she elleth mistook her negative answer for a positive one, and took a proper dress out of Irony's closet so that she could make herself proper before exiting the room. The she-elf thrust the dress in her hands careful to not touch her. It seemed elves thought mortality contagious.

* * *

(Legolas POV)

The prince cringed when the blade slid against his arm's side, drawing a little bit of blood out, tearing his eyes off the uniquely amusing sight they had accidentally fallen upon. Growling, he glared at Tauriel.

"_If you need a pause, your grace, by all means take one_." she teased, as she pointed towards the mark her blade had left on his body with her sword. "_But if you wish to keep going, I insist on that you focus, else you might loose an arm._" she warned, before swinging her weapon at him again.

Legolas felt his face go warm. He wondered if it was Tauriel's fiery spirit that was making his heart throb, or the shame of having been caught staring at Irony playing with children further away. Well, the mortal was not exactly playing with the children, she was truly just standing stiff, straight like tree, and bothered, amongst the elflings, while they played with her dress and sung an elvish lullaby about a human princess who had given up her title to become a farmer's wife. A thing Legolas knew Irony would never have done if she had been a princess. If she had been a princess, she wouldn't have settled for less than a King, he knew. She would have been even more selfish, and most certainly obsessed by power. He was infinitely thankful for in the Valar's song about the world, Irony was not of noble lining.

"_I am focused_." he answered pouting as he disliked being taunted by the elleth with the hair made of fire. Somehow, when the captain of the guard teased him, it made him more moody than when the others did. This was because he loved her, he knew. Because he loved her like a _friend_ and a sister. And sisters, he had been told, were pests. Nothing was ever truer he had realized when he had seen Tauriel once he had come back. The elleth was constantly on his back, taking notice of everything he did wrong and making jokes at his expense. Because of her, during the first week after he had arrived home, all of the members of her guard had called him _peredhel (half elven) _for she had made a remark saying that he had caught mortality by having stayed for so long with the humans. He had thought it funny, but proud as he was, he did not give her the satisfaction of laughing at her prank.

Tauriel swirled, then aimed straight at his heart, swift as a squirrel. He blocked her blade with one of his short swords, and while she concentrated on fighting her sword from being pushed back, the prince brought his other blade to her throat. "_It seems I am not the only one who's focus is set on the wrong the place_." he told her.

But far from looking defeated, the elleth chuckled. It made the prince curious as to why she was grinning as though _she _had won. And the answer came to him when in a split second, his friend went to her knees then swept him off his feet. Laying in the dirt, he opened his eyes only to see his reflection in the blade she was pointing at his face.

"_You should consider changing your __epessë (nickname) __from Thranduilion to Peredhel once and for all." _Her grinned broadened. Contrary to Irony's wicked smirks, Tauriel's grin had something kind and warm to it. "_You fight like half an elf. And begin to think like a man, it seems._" Legolas knew _very well_ there was some hidden meaning regarding his affection for the human in that last sentence. Tauriel liked to rub his weaknesses in his face. It was to help him become a better elf, she claimed. But he thought she just enjoyed annoying him because it was an easy task.

The elleth put her sword back in its sheath and extended a friendlily hand to Legolas. The prince gladly took it.

"_Go_." she told him gesturing towards the agitated children with a movement of the head. "_If your mind is with your guest, your body might as well be. We can train again, later."_

Legolas glanced at Irony. He was in great need of training, as Tauriel had just proved, but his heart was not in it today. All he could think about now that he had seen the human was the kiss he had adorn on her crooked nose, while his finger had shyly tangled with hers. He had not meant for their hands to touch then, but it had happened.

The prince sighed and gave a nod to Tauriel. The mortal was who he wanted to do right now. _Hum...no, not __**do**__: b_e _with. She is the person's who's company I want to enjoy...By the Valar! No matter how I put this sentence, its meaning troubles me. What spell that is twisting my thoughts have I fallen under?_

As he he approached the children, the lyrics of the lullaby the children were singing came to his lips.

"_Oh father, father, won't you let me go?"_

_She cried on her knees as tears wet her cheeks, so pretty_

"_Of silver and gold he is poor, I know,_

_But I am ready to trade my crown for love, may it be folly"_

"_Daughter, daughter, would you break my heart so?"_

_She wiped her precious tears with her hands, so tiny_

"_Of folly and love, I know,_

_But fate is cruel and it is a prince you must marry"_

(Irony POV)

Irony tried not show her displeasure too much. It's not that_ hated_ children, it was just that they made her uncomfortable. They were naive, gentle and overly loving; all those things she knew could not last and were usually ripped violently from children. Some of them would grow to become warriors and kill, others would be killed, some would use others in order to reach their goals, and the rest would be abused. Long story short: they would become adults one day, and their kindness would die along with the child they were.

A little girl shouted something she had heard people call Legolas, as she ran pas Irony, followed by most of the others. She turned. Legolas was there. She wondered what that word she kept hearing people call him meant. But she could not ask for its meaning as she was not even sure she could pronounce it. It sounded like 'srandurion', but it was not quite that.

The prince picked the little girl up and kissed her forehead. The elfling said something that caused all of the others to laugh hysterically, as she gesticulated to get out of his grip. Frowning, the prince put the child down, while the others still mocked him.

"I see you have no more authority over them than their nannies or I." Irony teased.

The prince shook his head annoyance. " Children are pure innocence, and yet they are the cruellest being walking on this earth."

His statement made Irony laugh; the prince could be so dramatic." You are so sensitive." she told him, a taunting smile on. " Tell me, what have they said to hurt you so?"

Legolas chuckled a little, then obviously pretending to be hurt, he spoke: "They say I do not smell half as good as their pet hamster, and am not half as clean as a pig ."

Irony took an overly aggravated expression as well as she looked at him up and down. He was indeed quite dirty. Well...as dirty as an elf could get: there was a little bit of sand in his hair, and his clothes were slightly grazed. He had probably been training, she guessed when she noticed the cut on his arm. "Indeed, you look awful." she told him. He frowned a little at her reply, so she stuck her tongue out at him. The children had probably not understood a word of what they had been saying, but they all imitated her anyway, and stuck their tongues at their prince, a reaction to which the prince answered by doing the same to them. Thrilled by the prince's silly acting, the brats began to laugh again. _They love him_, she realized, _because he is like them: untouched._

When his hand touched her shoulder, she tilted her head up to look at him. His hand was calloused... but his touch caused a very unique type of craving to awaken inside of the human. Lust. But not pure lust; she did not want to push him down on a bed and ride him like a beast – though the thought was not unpleasant. What she wanted was to have a tender exchange of affection through the joining of bodies with him. He would lay on top of her, all slick with sweat, and thrust inside and out of her in a controlled motioned while her lips would suck on the tip of his ears. He would want to be touched there, she knew.

But she pushed those dirty thoughts away quickly. _Elven fucking prince, _she reminded herself_. And a virgin at that. Do not dare ruining him, you whore! _

"Come," he told her unaware of the hungry look she was casting on him. _Gladly_, she thought smirking to herself. "There is something I would like to show you." With that said, he said something to the children then called Bodhien who had been standing a few meters away. Whatever the blond elf had told the golden armoured elf did not please him too much, but the soldier eventually bowed and quietly went to sit with the nannies.

* * *

" This is my safe place." he told her as he stared into the horizon. The sky was blue, just like his eyes and the colour of the butterflies that had fled when they had made the tree leaves rustle by popping their heads out of the thick reddish foliage. "It is here that I used to come when I was sad or upset." he told her.

Irony was confused. And not because of the view: the view was breath taking because of the contrast of colours and its uniqueness, but she had seen more magical places than this one before, and was not impressed. What confused her was the elf's inexistent sense of logic " Why show it to me?" she half barked at him, taking him aback. "It's not sacred, nor safe nor secret any more, now that someone knows where it is, you dummy princeling." she mocked. " It's tainted now."

Unexpectedly, the prince laughed. "The way you taint things is fine to me." he joked. She frowned at that although it was almost a kind thing to say. "And I thought it only fair to show you my safe place since I have seen yours."

"Mine?"she asked not so nicely. This was becoming too intimate a subject for her liking.

The prince nodded happily, not having noticed her discomfort. "Wasn't the barn where we stole the donkey your safe place when you were a child?"

His eyes showed concerned when instead of answering she opened her mouth, then closed it only to purse her lips angrily. She looked away, not wanting to give away that the memory of that place still pained her although it belonged to the past. "What is it to you?" she asked sharply, still avoiding his gaze.

The elf must have understood that he was stepping on a slippery road for he closed himself as well, allowing her the privacy she needed. Maybe he had felt rejected.

"Sorry." he said. His tone was cold instead of apologetic. After an uncomfortable silence, he began again: "I was a shy elfling." he told her, looking in the direction of the lonely mountain. "Too shy to speak to other elflings, so I had no friends. But I didn't mind." From the corner of her eyes, Irony saw his lips curl into a sad smile. "Talking to my mother and father alone was enough. I would stay with my mother all day." He paused. "I would cling to her dress until my father would physically force me to let go of her." He laughed full heartedly, and Irony could not help but chuckle as well. She had never imagined him to be such a needy child, and picturing him small, fighting his father's strength while pulling on his mother's skirt was incredibly amusing.

His laugh eventually quietened, and he took a deep breath. "After she died, my father...he changed." Irony noticed the elf's hands curled into fists. The loss of his mother still stung. "And so did I." he added. "Him and I spent most of our time together, in silence, secluded from the others. He had lost his wife, I had lost my mother, and we had both lost our closest friend. So we grew lonely. And bitter." He bit his lips. Irony was very tempted to take his hand in hers but she was afraid she would fall off the branch they were sitting on if she moved too much, so she kept her hands to herself.

"I do not know how, but my father got over my mother's passing after a while." he started again. "He told me that the distance was not an obstacle to their love, and that he could feel her warmth in his heart again." He licked his lips that were going dry from all the talking. "I think it is due to the bond. It lasts until the end of time." Irony was unsure as to what 'the bond' was. One of those elven things human could not understand, surely. " But the link I had with my mother was one of a different kind. I began to feel alone in my pain, and grew angry. I was also afraid to grow close to any one else because I did not want to risk them leaving me, like my mother. And that until I met Tauriel." Any sympathy Irony had felt for the prince changed into anger. And jealousy. Mainly jealousy. "Tauriel could-_ can_ defend herself. She is one of the realm's finest fighters. She is genuinely kind, she has a great sense of humour, and she knows of blood and death. She has fire in her blood as well as in her hair." He smiled and Irony felt her heat split in two. But she kept silent, and listened. "It is no wonder why I fell for her so quickly." The elf stopped suddenly, his cheek pink like maid's, seemingly bothered. "But I don't'- she and I- we-" He struggled to find his words, "She has bonded with the dwarf. She loves him." he finally mouthed.

Irony answered nothing, already having decided to move on with her life. She wasn't a fighter: she was a quitter. Life was made easier that way.

"You are awfully quiet." he commented after a while.

"I don't know what to tell you." she replied sighing. And it was true...what was there to be said?

"You don't have to say anything." he told her smiling sadly again, as he delicately took her hand in his. He seemed hurt, as if misunderstood. "I just wanted to share this with you for you shared much with me. Even if it was unwillingly." She understood he was referring to that moment in the barn, when she imploded and told him about some rather personal thing out of anger.

Irony felt her hand squeeze his. "I am sorry for your mother" she told him as she stared at their joined hands.

"All is well." he answered, his mood seemingly lifted somehow. "I have not felt lonely for a long time now." He smirked. Irony guessed some jape was coming her way, so her eyes squinted with anticipation. "I did not have the time to feel lonely between your unceasing speeches on life and our constant running away from people who wants you dead."

"I will listen to no complaints about _that_," she warned frowning. "I _did_ warn you about the dryness of my luck when we met. I even begged you to let me go several times. You listened, but you heard nothing, proud as you are!" Her grip on his hand unintentionally tightened as her voice grew louder.

"And _you_ watch but you never see, hasty as you are!" he retorted.

"I see everything _and_ notice everything!" she replied, half offended. "I know there are sweets in this new purse of yours!" she pointed at the object tied to the his belt. "And I know you eat them when you train, glutton that you are. I have seen you take pauses to eat some." she accused with a triumphant smirk on.

The prince laughed out loud. "Your eyes see all, don't they?" he started. " Just like the second Dark Lord; the two of you might just be one, an the same!" he teased. Irony smiled in the outside, though inside, it was nervousness that his latest joke had triggered. _Could the Dark Lord he spoke of be the Black Knight? _Was it becoming apparent that something was wrong with her? The hunger, the thirst, her knew dislike of the sun and its warmth, had he noticed?

"Look!" Legolas shouted, excited like the children had been when they had seen her through the window. The elf was pointing at what seemed to be coupling butterflies.

"Insects?" She raised a brow at him. What was so exceptional about them?

"Not just insects: nature, the trees, the birds. Life. Your small, fragile hand in mine also."A goofy smile spread across his face as he raised their intertwined hands to eye level for her to see. Irony felt her nose wrinkled and her cheeks warm up. The elf must have enjoyed her the effect he had on her very much for he kissed her forehead, just like he had kissed her nose a few days before.

Irony's frown deepened. "You were right, the barn was my safe place." she admitted, feeling that she could, and should, trust him with her secrets since he had trusted her with his. "After I was given to Payn, I went there to cry." She paused. "Often." she added. " I cried because I was angry, not sad, nor scared." she clarified. "I cried _everyday_."

When Legolas let go of her hand, Irony felt vulnerable and betrayed for she had revealed to him something she considered personal, and he had reacted by ending what comforting touch she had granted him with he had sought for it – meaning that when he had taken her hand in his, even if she had thought she would fall off the branch, she had not rejected him.

"No one will come to find you here." the elf said with a masculine voice she had rarely heard him use with her. His arm went around her shoulder, and pulled her closer to him. " And no one will do so much as glance in your direction if you do not want them to," he added, holding her firmly against his torso. Was he being protective of her now? Irony bit her lips. She _loathed_ mixed messages. First he spoke of his love for Tauriel, then he had her reveal her secrets to him and pulled her in a hug. _Stupid elf, _she thought, _what am I to understand?_ "I assure you, Lasgalen is the safest place on middle-ea-"

"I could slip on one of the many castle's stairs and die." she cut. She knew the elf meant to comfort her, but if death was out to get you,_ it would get you_ and there was nothing any one could do about it. Not even an angry prince faced elf. "Danger is everywhere, and death is unpredictable. Both come when least expected."

"So does your pessimism." he replied sounding slightly annoyed by it.

Irony pulled out of his embrace to look at his face. Legolas was pouting. "You are positive and pretty enough for the both of us, elf." she told him, before laughing at his embarrassment.

* * *

**A/N:**

Ooooh, I am so glad you liked the last chapter 8D Thank you all for the sweet comments 3

I am starting to introduce the smut~~ (èwé) Clothes will be slowly removed from now on, but all in good time.

And I should be able to update soon enough for the next chapter only needs proof reading 8D (it will be short though, but I am almost done writing the one after that so you'll have enough to read x) )


	20. Which whole?

**WHich hole? **

Another fortnights had gone by already since she had been brought in the Woodland realm. And not one of those latest day had passed, without Irony being glad Legolas had given her a dagger, for none of the elven soldiers dressed in golden armours looked at her with anything else than animosity in their eyes. Still, just like he had promised, no one had dared launch themselves at her, let alone touch her, but she had no doubt that in the eventuality of her making a brusque movement, all of them would attack at once. As a result, every time she heard a noise at night the human jumped out of her sleep and reached for the dagger, that she kept hidden in her new pair of boots, by her bed.

For people who waited only for her to leave, the civilian elves treated Irony with care. She was given lots of new clothes, brought meals at any time of the day and someone washed her clothes in her stead. Legolas had thought she would get used to it, but after the first week of having a servant, not wanting to get used to a comfort that would not last forever, Irony had asked to be shown to the kitchen so she could make her own food, and to be brought to the river so she could wash her clothes by herself.

She had thought the elleyth and ellyn who attended her would be happy not to have to serve a human, but according to Legolas, they had taken their dismissal rather poorly. At first she had thought she had gotten them fired, and it was loosing their salary that bothered them, but the prince explained that in elven realms, no one was ever paid for doing anything, and every one was happy to help the community by doing whatever task they were appointed to.

When she heard the horn signalling the gates would open, Irony rushed down the stairs, to look at the unit who was marching out today. They were all dressed in silver instead of gold, and had a green leaf painted on their left shoulder plate. She envied them from being able to leave the gates.

Surprisingly, Legolas was among them today, so she wondered if they were off to kill spiders. As he walked briskly at the head of the group, Irony sprinted to catch up with him, carefully avoiding the sun light that had crept through he door. Of course, Bodhien followed her from close as always.

"Where are you off to, elf?" she asked him, trying to keep up with his speed.

"Good morning to you too, my lady." he started, grinning, ignoring her question. "I am glad to see that you fare well on this beautiful morning." She rolled her eyes, for he never missed an occasion to remind her her lack of manners.

"Same to you m'lord, elf." she said sounding as stupid as she could manage. "Where are you going?" she asked again.

"I am heading to killing spiders and destroying their nets." he informed her. The answer disappointed her. She had been hopping for something else to be happing. Something that would change from the castle's routine. Although, she should have expected it was about the spiders again, for every one was heavily armed. Legolas more than the others: he had a bow, two short swords tied on his back, a dagger on one side of his belt and a long sword on the other side. He looked like a weapon himself.

"What better way to start the day could there possibly be!" she exclaimed with a voice full of sarcasm.

"Is there something you would ask of me, or do you intend on joining me in my early morning activity?" he asked imitating her tone as he stepped aside, letting the others head out first.

"As much as killing spiders sounds charming, I must decline for _this_" She pointed at his long sword, "Is not the kind of sword I have the most experience at wielding." She waited to see if the elf would pick up the joke, but he did not understood it, and seemed to think she simply disliked long swords. "Plus, spiders have no throats I can slit open, so I would be useless." That made him chuckle. For a creature of light, he sure had a rather dark sense of humour. "I am here because...I know not what I am supposed to do with myself here, since no one will accept my help anywhere."

"Well you could learn the arts of music, with one of the bards. Or learn embroidery, with the seamstresses." he offered.

"Let me think about it...Hmm..._No_. May I have one of those swords? Killing spiders does not sound so bad a morning exercise any more. How big are they again? About my size?"

"Some are bigger than Galdor, now." he told her. That made her frown, causing him to smile. "I can ask Bodhien to bring you to the library if you would rather. We have books in the common tongue as well."

Irony did not answer to that. Instead of admitting she could not read to him, she decided to change the subject, swallow her pride and ask for what she really wanted from him. "Can't you _stay with me_?" she begged. Her pleading did not not seem to surprise him, and instead of grinning and teasing her like she had expected he would do, he smiled a little.

"I have dut-

"duties to attend to." she cut annoyed. That was all he said recently. He spoke of what he was expected to do as a prince then left, and sometimes she did not see him for a fortnights, during which, she spoke to no one for no one spoke to her, and _missed_ his presence. Her because she had been too straightforward that day in the tree. Maybe her words had scared him then, and still scared him now.

"I will send word for you when I come back, I promise." he said awkwardly patting her shoulder mannishly, as though she was one of his fellow warriors, before leaving.

(LEGOLAS POV)

Legolas and his unit only came back after having spent several dreadful nights in the woods. Staying outside he usually did not mind, but with the gigantic spiders, and newly discovered poisonous snakes, those nights in the wild had been hell.

First he had left with the guilt of having ever brought Irony to the castle. Although she was strong minded, and never truly complained, it was obvious to his eyes that she was all but happy here. She simply did not fit in. The problem seemed to be that in addition to being an outsider, despite the improvement of her speech in the common tongue and manners, she was still a human who lacked the standard grace and reactivity elves expected from one another. By the simple way his people glanced at her, the prince could say with certainty that even if she had been fluent in sindarin, Irony wouldn't have inspired more sympathy to them.

Second, upon the first day of cleansing attempt of the forest, a new recruit managed to get lost, forcing the party to split in smaller groups to look for him. Being weaker in parties of ten than in one group of a hundred, seven elves found death upon being attacked by spiders and two of the three survivors died from their wounds the next day for no healers were allowed out of the castle and they were found too late to be moved.

Then, upon their arrival to the castle, they found out the lost recruit had never even made it through the gates, for he had arrived after the gathering hour, and no elf was allowed outside unaccompanied. And on top of it all, it seemed that both Galdor and his father had decided to delay their paperwork to him at the same. It was so bad a timing it seemed as though they were doing it on purpose, so he wouldn't have a second to himself.

Yet exhausted, sore, _and_ angry, Legolas intended to do as he had promised, and sent someone to Irony with a note saying that he had finally come back. The elf was sent right back to him with the shreds of what had been his note.

"_I thought I should report the woman did not do so much as read it._" the younger ellon told him.

Legolas sighed, he was in no mood to scold another youngster for not having done properly what he had tasked them with. "_Did you remember to tell her it was from me_?" he asked as calmly as he could manage.

The ellon nodded and grimaced. "_I did. Then she cut it and said __**this**__ was welcome back gift." _he explained, showing the pieces of papers._ "Then she implied that you should enjoy '_shoving'_ them in a hole. But when I asked her what hole she spoke of, she refused to answer, saying you would know of which she spoke of._"

And he did know what hole she meant. The whole situation unnerved him more than he already was. Legolas dismissed the warden, and decided to go find Irony himself, and give her a piece of his mind regarding her savage behaviour, along with a good scold about the indecent vocabulary she used.

When he arrived to the kitchen in which he was told she was currently cooking her dinner, he noticed the door was ajar. Instead of storming in, he discreetly glanced inside to look at what exactly she was doing.

The kitchen was not exactly in a decent state. They were dirty plates here and there, peels from random vegetables every where, and flour floating all around her as she was making some sort of paste, hitting it now and then, probably to make it lighter. She must have been going at it for a while for she was panting, sweating a little, and had unlaced the top of her dress so it would be less tight and let the air come through. Worn this way, the gown seemed too ample for her, and her left sleeve dropped on the side, leaving her shoulder and part of her collarbone naked, and even revealing a little bit too much of the skin of her left breast.

As Legolas observed her unnoticed, a strange feeling spread through him, as an unfamiliar stir grew in his groin, and the fabric of his pants began to feel restrictive. Having been educated about the things of sex, he understood immediately what was happening, and retreated to his office, since it was far closer than his chambers, in a hurry, locking the door behind him.

Taking place in his chairs, Legolas removed his tunic then undid the front laces of his pants, to free his erection. Determined to enjoy his introduction to sexuality despite the sudden way it befell on him, he wrapped a hand around his member an began to stroke it slowly. As his hand move up and and down, he remembered how nonchalant and sensual Irony had looked in the kitchen, and the pleasure he felt intensified. Before long, he let out a grunt as he reached his climax, spilling his seed on his stomach.

Catching his breath, he felt guilty for having pleasured himself using the foxy woman as stimuli. But he soon remembered than as an elf, lust and arousal could only be felt when a reciprocated physical attraction existed between someone and the person of their fancy, so he suspected the human had probably slid a hand between her thighs, under her covers, while she thought of him. And while he thought of her touching herself and imagined her moan his name, he felt himself grow hard again.

And then it hit him. He had realized after they had first held hands that he liked her as more than a friend, but recently, he had been thinking about the way she smiled, laughed, talked, walked, smelled all the time recently, what had made him considerably slower in his work. The sindar let his head fell on his desk as the absurdity of him having to hide in his office in order to masturbate because somehow, a random mortal who had blatantly delivered him to orcs had seduced _him_, an elf and a prince. One that was far past the age at which it was common to marry.

_Father was right. No kiss is meaningless; each of them is the beginning to something bigger. _He sighed._ I had the time to move out of her way that night in the inn, but I chose to remain still and now I see that her lips, though they have touched mine only twice, will cause my doom. _

Legolas was simply not ready to make a choice between the two that presented themselves to all elves who found themselves in this delicate situation. He could either trust she loved him the way he _thought_ he loved her and bind himself to her knowing that when she would die he would follow her in death soon after, or forsake love at the risk of never finding another compatible mate, but ensuring himself a long life, may it be lonely until the end.

He sighed again biting his lips. Maybe he didn't have to make a choice : although it was uncommon, it was not entirely impossible for physical attraction to happen between two elves without love being involved, so maybe that sort of attraction could also exist between an elf and a human. Maybe he was over reacting and was only _slightly_ infatuated with her.

But what if he actually loved her? And if he did, what if the affection _she_ claimed to feel for him was a fleeting feeling? Had she even meant it, when she had muffled "I might just be falling for you, elf" when they had been sitting up in the tree, in his safe place, or had she lied because she knew that through him, she could have access to enough gold to make a human king turn green with jealousy? And even if they felt the same for one another, how could they be together if his people did not accept her, and living here made her unhappy? How much worse would his father react to this than he had reacted to his attraction for Tauriel?

* * *

**A/N**

So I read a bunch of stuff about elves sexuality to come up with the way/ the time Legolas should/could react physically to lust so that it wouldn't be too untolkienelvishlike. Turns out elves don't really think about sex before meeting someone they want to bond with, then they bond, and some time after they have had kids, the lust somehow vanishes and the couple goes back to other activities than sex and basically rarely ever (or never?) have sex again.

I find that pretty sad 80


	21. The dwarf and the golden flower

**The dwarf and the golden flower**

(Irony POV)

Not having anything better to do, Irony decided to go for a stroll before regaining her rooms. She wondered if she would see the end of the stairs, rooms, and corridors of this place before she would be asked to leave. If that ever happened.

Of course, her shadow, Bodhien, walked silently behind her. He had still not spoken a word to her, and Irony was beginning to think he actually could not speak despite having a tongue. At first she had not minded that he would not utter a word, for she had thought Legolas would be enough to live up her social life. But she had never been _so_ wrong. She had scarcely seen the blond elf since she had partially admitted her feelings to him. "_I have duties to attend to_" was what he kept telling her again and again. He started to feel like a stranger to her again.

"Ah!" exclaimed Irony when not looking at where she was going, she hit something, that surprisingly, was not a pillar. "You're Tauriel's dwarf!"

The not so tall creature did not seem offended by her interjection. He smiled, and bowed low. "Kili, at your service." Irony wondered if he remembered that she had abandoned him and Tauriel. If he did, he did not seem to care.

"Irony..." she answered, bowing politely. She hated having to do these sorts of courtesies. She failed to understand their usefulness and they made her feel ridiculous. But since it was customary...

Kili raised a brow and looked at Bodhien up and down. "I see the, _oh,_ so generous king of the woodland realm trusts you no more than he does me."

Irony looked around, but saw no other guard anywhere else. The corridor was empty and dark though not scary. "I don't see any guard standing behind you." she told him.

The dwarf smirked then laughed. He looked at Bodhien as if expecting the elf to say something, and when the elf did not react, he turned back to Irony. "I ditched my guard." he said proud of himself. Instinctively, Irony turned to look at Bodhien. After having observed the guard the past few days, she was now unsure if he feigned ignorance and actually understood the common tongue, or if like Legolas had told her, the guard only spoke sindarin. But the elf had his ever expressionless expression on.

"Don't worry, most of them don't understand the common tongue." Kili shrugged. "And even the guards who do, will pretend they don't when they are on duty."

Irony considered that detail for a long moment, while she inspected the dwarf. He had less hair on his chin than most other dwarves had, he was clean, had a goofy smile and seemed like a entertaining fellow. And most importantly, he seemed to know a lot about the elves, and possibly the guards as well.

"Then there is only a slight chance that he would understand it, if I asked you to help me ditch him?" she asked, smirking, pointing at Bodhien over her shoulder with her thumb.

The dwarf frowned a little then sighed and started shaking his head in disappointment. "I doubt the king would enjoy hearing the dwarf and the human of the castle are snooping around in his castle, unaccompanied." He was faking a disapproving tone, and it made Irony laugh a little.

"I doubt you care about what the king thinks." she replied. Kili laughed out loud.

"You seem to enjoy living dangerously." he told her. Then in the space time of a second, he had grabbed her arm and was dragging her away from Bodhien who startled, did not know where to look. But as suddenly as he had broken into a print, the dwarf stopped.

In front of them were Tauriel, with furrowed brows, Legolas who was scowling and a taller blond elf she had never seen before. He was all in armour, a golden one, but the same as Galdor's men, and had longer hair and broader shoulders than the prince. The stranger looked at the dwarf questioningly, then at her with less interest showing on his face. Contrary to all the other elves she had met in this forest, this one seemed to be impressed by the sight of a dwarf in an elven realm, than by the sight of a human.

A cold sensation crept down her spine as she stared at that unknown blond elf. He looked very much like all the others but there was something different about him. Something ancient, kind and yet terrifying.

"Where are your guards?" asked Tauriel. She sounded as though she had ran out dry of patience. Irony glanced at Kili, who was smiling innocently. The dwarf seemed to be incredibly careless and to take every thing for a game. Yet that childishness of his was charming instead of annoying.

"We know not of whom you speak of." he answered elbowing Irony as though they were now accomplices. Irony shook her head at Tauriel, as if to let the elleth know she had nothing do do with whatever Kili had been doing.

Tauriel did not answer Kili but her and her lover seemed to be having a telepathic argument for they shook their heads and nodded at each other putting on different facial expressions. Then Tauriel seemed to have given up. The elleth smiled before leaving for no apparent reason. Kili bowed to every one then ran after her a huge grin on face. They could not be more oblivious.

Legolas and the other elf stared at each other in confusion for a while, before exchanging some words in their singing tongue. Irony felt out of place again. She wanted to go back to her room, but at the same time, she desperately wanted to stay and enjoy Legolas's company, even if not for long.

The human was starting to think that her attachment to prince was absurd. She knew she loved him – _a little_, and had grown accustomed to the idea, but the way just being near him made her heart race annoyed her. He made her feel more or less like when she had _thought _she was in love with Guill. Only Legolas she could not get out of her head at any moment to the point that she even dreamed of him. _And as of late, I see more in my dreams than in real life..._

"I did not know king Thranduil welcomed humans and dwarves in his realm." said the unknown elf, amused. He glanced at her, and she caught him at it.

"My father could not deny Tauriel from the presence or her soul-mate. It would have been cruel." replied Legolas. Irony was glad to hear sentences she could understand. It made her feel like she was given a chance to participate in the conversation, and that was very appreciated since it occurred rarely.

"And who's soul-mate is the human?" asked the elf in armour looking at her up and down. His lips were curling on the sides and the way he was looking at her made Irony feel like she was being challenged.

"The human has a name, elf." she cut in.

Legolas sighed and put a friendly hand on her shoulder. "She is my guest." he told the other elf. "Please forgive her, Glorfindel, courtesy is not something, my lady here, is unfamiliar with." he said, directing the insult at Irony. She did not look at the prince, but could feel him glare at her, and took great pleasure in ignoring him.

"There is naught to forget!" exclaimed the elf called Glorfindel. "_I _should have remembered my manners, and inquired for your name sooner, my lady...?"

"Irony." she answered not bothering to bow. Glorfindel did not seem like he would mind. Actually, Glorfindel seem like he did not like protocols much more than she did.

"What an unusual name." he said, intrigued. "You may call me Glorfindel." The warrior took her hand and kissed it politely, without breaking eye contact. Unaccustomed to such salutations, Irony looked at Legolas to ask him what she should do next, but the prince seemed just as puzzled as she was.

"Irony..." started Legoas, trying to look away from Glorfindel who was smirking at her, "Where is Bodhien?" The only answer she gave him was a snort. " It is only a precaution." he insisted. _Like I would believe that. _" If you flee from him again, the king might appoint a second guard to follow you."

"Can't I have another guard than Bodhien? One that acknowledges that I am a living being and talks to me, if it is not too much to ask."

"Bodhien is most qualified to tend to your needs, be there any." he argued. When looking at the prince, Irony wondered if the Legolas she had fallen for was the same one who was standing in front of her. This one was a boring prince and not the curious and adventurous yet serious elf she liked to tease.

"You are right, I think he has proven himself most capable to watch over me. I am certain he would have caught up with Kili and I, had you not been here." Her sarcasm made Glorfindel smile. She could see that the warrior was trying hard not to laugh so hat the prince wouldn't feel too humiliated.

Legolas seemed a little bit angry, but did not act on it. "I will try to find you another guard." he conceded, being careful not to make any promise.

"No need! I've found myself one." She pointed at Glorfindel. The elf seemed surprised, but did not oppose.

"Glorfindel is an honourable guest in Eryn Lasgalen." Legolas argued, embarrassed. "He is the Balrog Slayer from the House of the Golden Flower. Asking him to be your guard would be insulting. And surely he tired after such a long-" answered Legolas, before saying something to the taller elf in sindarin. Irony guessed he was apologizing for her behaviour. She was growing tired of her being treated like a child. She wondered if the way she felt now, was the way Legolas had felt when they had been among humans and she had spoken in his stead and forbidden him to do some things.

"I fail to see how it would be insulting. I am good company." she interrupted, shrugging. "Besides, whatever a _balrog_ is, if he slew one, a woman should not be too intimidating." She put both hands on her hips and looked at Glofindel. The elf raised a brow at her. Contrary to Legolas, he seemed find the situation comical.

"Glorfindel has much to attend to and little time to -"

"Actually," cut in the taller elf. "I would be delighted to be lady Irony's personal guard." he said looking at Irony. "If the prince does not oppose to it, of course. I do not oft see humans, but I find their company most refreshing."

Both Irony and Glorfindel waited for the prince to answer. But Legolas seemed to be torn about what to say. Although, trying to hide it, the prince was obviously displeased with something.

"The prince's not opposing." finally said Irony.

"I am not sure-"

"Then guard me yourself!" she exclaimed. Legolas seemed pained for a second then annoyed, and the muscles in jaw tensed. Irony disliked that she had lost her temper. She did not mean to humiliate Legolas any more than she had already done, and for the first time, she felt like the savage elves seemed to think she was.

"I cannot, I have duties to attend to." whispered the prince. He took a deep breath then turned to Glorfindel."If it is no trouble to you, my lord, I see naught wrong with you guarding lady Irony."

* * *

(Glorfindel POV)

The day had gone rather smoothly considered he had arrived in Mirkwood _alive_. When he had been told that there was a 'big spiders' invasion, Glorfindel had thought Lord Elrond had exaggerated the state of things, and wondered why he was sent to help crushing spiders. However, upon arriving at the border, he had understood that Elrond had used 'big' to describe the spiders and not the invasion. Though, Glorfindel would say that invasion was big and the spiders ridiculously _gigantic_.

But it didn't matter since on order of King Thranduil, he was not to leave the castle unless to head back to Imladris. _If Elrond has foreseen that,he could have spared me the trouble of the road..._ He was glad that king Thranduil had decided not to send him out in the wild, for he did not fancy fighting another one of those nightmarish creatures any time soon, though he felt bad that all of the field work was now left to the young prince. The young prince who seemed to be dreaming while fully awake, what did not reassure Glorfindel the least.

He remembered Legolas as a small shy child who contrary to Elrond's brats, was serious and enjoyed the company of trees more than the one of other elflings. Then again back then, the young prince was near a baby and now he was full grown and far past the age of courting everything with a skirt on. Elves mostly married between age 50 and 100 or not at all. _And Legolas should be more than ten times a hundred by now. _

Thinking about how old the young prince was, lead him to wonder how old the human he was walking back to her chambers was. Lady.._Irony_, was it? She had had been very straightforward with the prince, and both the silvan and his father were unused to bluntness. Yet surprisingly enough, Legolas had not put her back to her place. Looking at her now, Glofindel understood why: she looked fierce.

The girl – or was she a woman? Glorfindel could barely make the difference when it came to humans – was sulking and her brows furrowed a little more every time she caught an elf glancing at her. And since they almost all glanced at her, the top half of her face was a waterfall of wrinkled skin, what made her look like a just born pup with extra forehead skin. _A fierce pup with extra forehead skin, yes_.

"You do not like it here, do you?" he asked her. The answer was obvious. She gave him a quick glance, but seemingly thinking this question was not worth minding, she did not answer. Glorfindel kept going anyway. "Me neither to be honest. The elves here are wary of every person they did not see grow into adulthood. Even me they searched." He told her hoping it would help them bond. And it seemed to work, for she threw him a mocking smile though, she still gave no answer. "Also, Greenwood's forest is too dark and wild for my taste. Every shadow I see here startle me so, that my hand barely ever leaves my sword. Although, the 'King's Garden', as they call it, is one of the the world's most beautiful places, I have to admit. I could take you there if you haven't seen it yet."

The human smirked. "Why, and follow _you_, a stranger, in an unknown forest during a moonless nigh? I think not, _Findel_."

The appellation took him aback, but the answer he liked. "I see the lady is wise and chooses not trust easily."He smirked back at her. "We will get along very well you and I. We have much in common."

* * *

**A/N:** TADAAAH!GLORFINDEL walked in!Bet you did not see that coming 8D

I love Glorfindel, he is basically famous for killing a balrog when he actually just fell off the cliff _along_ with the Balrog (I am exaggerating a bit there) while Etchelion who killed the strongest of the balrogs barely has any recognition x)

Anyway, if you love Glorfindel there is a wonderful fic called 'the Hematic' on fanfic, that I highly recommend.

Also, thank you for all the sweet comments 3 I'll answer to each of you this week end 3


	22. Setting the trap

**Setting the trap**

(Legolas POV)

Thranduil and Galdor were already seated, and beginning their second course when Legolas arrived. The both of them seemed merry tonight. Well, his father was differently merry than other people: he smiled and laughed differently than everyone else, and the way his eyes scanned everyone's every moves with serious was always frightening. His gaze was intense, and when he set his blue eyes on people he seemed to be searching through your thoughts for all the secrets you buried deep in your mind, hoping no one would ever dig them out. And tonight, the king's searching gaze scared Legolas for Irony was the secret buried deep in his mind, and he new his father would react _terribly_ to it if he ever knew of this.

At first, due to the kick in of the physical attraction between him and the foxy woman, Legolas had thought he should claim his love for her like he had claimed his love for Tauriel. Then upon thinking about it, he realized how silly of a mistake it had been to let his feelings for Tauriel out for every one to see, and decided it was safer to keep a low profile this time – especially since it is a _mortal_ he is so fond of – until he was absolutely certain of the nature of his feelings.

As he entered the room, Leoglas tried to look as relaxed as his elders but he knew by the way his gaze fell to his feet when his eyes met his father's that the kingly elf would sense something was weighting on him.

He sat at his usual seat, on his father's left, in front of Galdor. On busy days, the three of them ate together for they ate later than everyone else, or, were too tired to endure the never ending conversations with the lords and ladies. Galdor was always the most reluctant at the idea of eating with the rest of the high elves for he found most of them empty of thoughts. Thranduil on the other hand, was great at entertaining his people and did not mind partaking to the occasional superficial conversations with uninteresting elves so long as he had a glass of wine in a hand, and the bottle near by the other. Legolas never enjoyed it more than Galdor did, but much like his father, he was able to live up useless conversation, for the sake of bonding with his people.

As soon as he sat, a pretty maid with a long side braid brought him a salad of tomatoes and onions and a slice of bread, before retreating to the kitchen.

"_I assume your day did not go well, son._" said the King. Legolas cursed in his head, while his father stared at him, looking for answers on his face. The king inspected him for a long time before frowning himself when he had found an answer to one of his yet unspoken questions."_How many died?"_

"_Too many. Nine in all, and one is currently under heavy assistance of the healers."_ he replied, saddened about how horribly the expedition had turned out. He was angry at the elleth who had involuntarily been the source of this, yet, he blamed only himself for everything. He was supposed to count the soldiers while on their way out, but he had been distracted by Irony then feeling guilty for having left the woman by herself once more, he had forgotten to take the appropriate dispositions to ensure the safety of his unit.

"_It is regrettable indeed_." said Thranduil successfully hiding his pain. The king seemed not to care, but Legolas knew his father would visit all the late elves' families himself, and pay his respect to their tombs as though they had been his own children. "_None of it is your fault._" added his father as he gently patted his back.

"_You do not know the whole story yet, father._" The king waited for an explanation, but Legolas gave none, not wanting dinner to end in an argument tonight. Thranduil seem to understand that and did not push further on the topic.

"_Maid, please._" shouted the king. She came out running. "_My son needs cheering, please bring him some of those delicious..._" the King's voice trailed and he frowned at his half empty plate. "_What do you call those?_" he asked pointing at the yellowish-brownish round balls that laid here and there in his plate.

"_I know not, your grace._" came the maid's shy answer.

The king growled at that. "_Just bring another plate of it, if you will._" he ordered.

"_There is none left, your grace. The Commander and you ate all there was_."

The king growled louder. "_Then ask the cooks to make some more, please._" The maid grimaced and bit her lips as though there was something she dared not say. When she did not move the King sighed with annoyance and turned to her frowning. "_Well, what are you waiting for_?"

"_I fear, your grace, that the cooks will not be able to make some more of those...They did not make this course...The mortal did_." Galdor spit out what he was chewing as though it had suddenly turned into poison in his mouth, what caused Legolas to laugh. "_My apologies, my lord._" she told the commender, panicked. "_It was put with the rest of the plates, and I served it unknowing it was of her making and not meant for your table. When I came to take it back to the kitchen...you had already started eating it, and seemed to enjoy it.._."

"_What is wrong Commender, do you fear the human's food could make you mortal as well_?" joked the prince. He was well aware of the way Galdor had every golden soldier keep both eyes on Irony for he distrusted her profoundly and the prince disapproved of it completely. Unfortunately, the order had come from his father so there was nothing he could do about it. Just like there was nothing he could do to help her leave the castle. As long as his father was not absolutely certain she wasn't a spy sent from the dark shadow raising in the east Galdor and him always whispered about, he intended on keeping her here; the king had only agreed to let her do as she pleased around the castle for he wanted her to think he granted her a minimum of trust so that she may lower her guard more easily.

"_Do not be silly Legolas._" grounded the King, trying not to smile. He turned to the maid."_Please fetch the human._" He switched language so the maid would not understand what he was about to say. " Surely if there is nothing intoxicating in it, she will not oppose to taste it."

"_No, wait!_" ordered the prince. The maid stopped net. "This is absurd," he told his father, " The hour is too late father, Irony must be asleep." he said trying not to sound protective of her. But he must have failed for his father's eyes had narrowed at the mention of her name. "Besides, if the food had been poisoned, surely you would have felt it by now." he explained.

"You forget she is human." His father's voice came out loud and firm. "She could have tried to poison us with something that would kill a human but does not know is ineffective on us."

"If Galdor and I came to the hypothesis that humans are not affected by the black venom while we are, surely she could have come up with it too, and understood that what is poisonous to her race, is not to ours." argued the prince.

Thranduil's eyes started to search his for secrets, but did not have the time to come upon any for the Commender spoke, catching his attention.

"_Your son is right. I have over reacted_."admitted Galdor. "She seems clever enough not to make such a poor attempt to our lives. " He added resolving to finish the food Irony had made. Legolas wondered what it was, and wished he had join them for dinner earlier, so he would have been able to try some more of Irony's cooking. He wondered if what she had cooked tonight was half as good as what she had probably looked like when she had cooked it– he tried to dismiss the thought immediately before feeling aroused again.

"_Clever? I thought her completely uneducated?_" asked the king. Legolas used the fact that his father seemed taken by his discussion with Galdor to discreetly send the maid away before she could actually be sent to wake Irony.

"_Uneducated she is: she cannot read, and even the common tongue she speaks like a peasant. But memory does not fail her, she remembers and learn fast. She-_"

"_What do you mean she cannot read?"_ intruded Legolas confused. _"I sent her to library this morning._"

"_And she went_." confirmed Galdor. "_I found her there, looking at pictures, trying to decipher letters form one another. When I asked her what she was doing, she told me she was trying to learn the common tongue's alphabet._" he explained._ "No doubt she will know it by tomorrow."_

"_Did __**you**__ teach her?_"asked the king none too happy about this. If there was an enemy in his castle, he would rather the foe be uneducated and dumb than smart and cunning.

"_Yes, and I plan on continuing to do so_." started the Commender. "_I want to keep a close eye on her. Besides, it is better that __**I**__ be the one to chose what she is to learn, than she picks it herself. This way, I have a full knowledge of what she knows and what she does not._" The elven king agreed to the argument with a nod, though he only seemed half convinced.

"_Do you know more about what link she could have with...the shadow of the east, shall there be any_?" questioned the king. Legolas rolled his eyes but remained silent. He could hardly see why the necromancer would send a _human_ when he very likely disliked them almost as much as he did elves.

"_No. Apart from the way orcs live, and though she uses his name in vain, she seems to know naught of what grows in the east." _replied Galdor.

* * *

(Irony POV)

_Smarter. _That was what Irony knew she had to be if she wanted to ever leave her castle shaped cage. And learning to write and read was only the beginning of it. She grinned as she rolled over in her soft bed. The Commender was watching her from so close that he could not see the bigger picture and was helping her prepare her sweet escape without knowing it.

She understood not why they would not let her leave since she was merely just tolerated in the realm. Every time she asked Legolas about it, he answered it was because it was not safe to travel the forest any more. But Irony knew better than to believe that. If they had been able to get safely enough to the castle, surely they could get out of the forest the same way: alive.

If the golden knights did not keep all of their eyes on her all of the time, she would have already had snuck in the king's office looking for answers. But she suspected the effort would not have been worth the risks for the reports and parchments must all be written in elvish and she could not yet understand anything else but the few curse words Legolas used so often.

Come to think of it, she had not heard him curse recently. Well, she had not even seen him for the past few days. But she found comfort with Glorfindel. He was always there. Well, almost..for a 'watchful' guard, the elf had a bad tendency to get lost in his thoughts forgetting whatever he was doing. Irony thought he was very much like a child, even more innocent than Legolals was in some ways.

She had been very disappointed the day the prince had sent some random servant to tell her he was back instead of coming to see her in person. Actually, it had made her angry. It had made her feel like she was an optional pun in the game of his life. Like she could be removed and brought back in his it at his convenience and she hated that feeling. Apart from Guill, the other men she had had feelings for had treated her that way, and she did not want it to happen again.

Still, she had a soft spot for Legolas, and could not ignore the way she craved for him. After all the time they had spent together looking after one another, being separated from him now, made her feel incomplete, as though a half of herself was held prisoner by the elf. And the less she saw him, the more she wanted to steal him away from everyone else and keep him for herself, far from Mirkwood.

She was torn off her thoughts when she heard her door open. She knew the person who had come in was not Glofindel. The elf always knocked before coming in, and that one hadn't. Still pretending to be asleep, she readied her self to get the dagger Legolas had given her as soon as the intruder would be close enough to harm. She had known that moment would come the second she had met other elves than the prince.

She felt someone bend over her, and when she could feel their breath on her forehead, she reach for the dagger in her boots, but before she could use it, the intruder had taken two large steps backward, setting themselves out of reach.

"What are you doing here at this hour?!" she complained when she realized the intruder was none else than Legolas. The elf was dressed rather casually for once. He had no circlet, and there was no sophisticated embroidery nor gold on his tunic. Actually it wasn't a tunic he was wearing, but a simple grey shirt, but judging by the way the shirt shone, it might have been sewed with quite a few silver threads. _Is everything he ever wears so expensive he could buy the whole of the White Plains if he wanted to?_

"There was no guard on your door, so I worried." he offered. Then he looked at her dagger, and by the mocking smile he had on his lips, Irony guessed she must have looked ridiculous in her nightdress, still half under her covers, with a dagger in one hand. She certainly didn't look threatening. "I apologize for waking you." he said trying not to laugh. She scowled. "You can put that away, now." he started again, coming closer again. Then he stopped as if he had suddenly remembered something. "Where is Glorfindel?"

Irony shrugged. There was no keeping track of what and where the lord of the golden flower did. He always came and went without her noting.

The prince sighed, obviously annoyed. "I should have known you would have scared him off." he threw at her, grinning.

Fatigue was creeping through her body, so she decided not to retaliate tonight. "Actually, him and I get along just fine." she said dragging the cover back on top of her, up to her nose. The elf didn't feel it much because they were elves, but their damn cave of a castle was cold at night.

For a second she could have sworn the prince had frowned, but then his face closed again and he had a forced smile on. "Good then. Have a good night." he told her rather coldly before heading to the door. Irony wondered if the elf wasn't lunatic. He kept swinging from warm and flirty – _in an elven fashion,_ to cold and distant.

"Are you off to work, again?" she heard herself complain about. She had sounded irritated too. She mentally scolded herself for being unable to hold her tongue around this one. _Talking too much is no good, you silly girl._

"I am heading to my chambers." he replied. "Why? Is there something you need before I leave? If it is Glorfindel, do not worry, tomorrow I will have someone else repla-"

"No!" she interrupted. "No, thanks. I like Findel very much as my guard though he does not do much guarding." she admitted. "I just asked because right now seems like a good moment to give me that hug you owe me." She grinned when his cheeks and ears ears turned pink.

"_Owe_ you?" he asked raising brow. Maybe he didn't remember he had said he would let her hug him after he had gotten her a royal pardon 'for her crimes'. Well...he had not _said_ that, but he had suggested it.

"Yes, owe me." she insisted. "After you introduced me to your '_ada_'. Before he ruined the moment." she explained. He chuckled lightly at that. "Now will you come here, or will you leave and stay indebted? If you choose to leave, know that the debt will only grow bigger, and even the Dark One won't foresee what I might ask of you."

The prince grinned back at her. "I would not want to keep a debt running." he assured her. Then he seemed uncomfortable. "However, you are laying in a bed and...it would not be proper if I-"

"Laid near me?" she completed arching a brow. Then she realized something. "Have you never cuddled before?"

He blushed. "Cuddling is...I mean only couples...they..." his voice shook, and he struggled to find his words. "An ellon may only share an elleth's bed if they are wed, or while at an advanced stage of courting, but no sooner. Before it is...dangerous. The bond may form even if they don't exactly...If the physical attraction is there already and- and they share feelings and they..."

While he spoke Irony only grinned. Glofindel had already explained that to her when she had asked him to explain what the 'bond' was. It seemed the bond meant tying your soul to a loved one forever. The bond was sealed by having sex with that person. But the linking of the soul really started from the very moment both elves felt the same way for one another. From there, they experienced lust for the very first time, and they had to control it until they decided they were ready to abandon themselves to the other for eternity. However, rarely, but sometimes, if the couple were in the lust phase and had too much physical contact, even without actually having sex, the bond sealed itself somehow. That was the reason why high elves were more distant to each other than other elves, and very strict about the courting process while lower elves liked to explore the other sexual alternatives before even courting anyone if they could achieve physical attraction between them. Though he had been able to explain all that without blushing like a virgin maid, Irony was convinced the balrog slayer was as clueless about the matters of bedding than her prince was.

Not caring if she was interrupting him again, Irony spoke. "Good thing I am not an elleth then, but a woman." she said grinning, as she held her hand out as an invitation. The prince's eyes went round like those of an owl and he took another step back as if to flee the temptation. "Is there some rule about being in a bed with humans too?" she asked.

"Not that I know off." he admitted. That being pointed out, she shook her hand to insist that he takes it, and he did, reluctantly so. He let her pull him to the bed, then sat on its border stiff as a wooden broom, back to her, both hands and both eyes on his knees.

The whole scene made Irony roar in laughter, and that caused the elf's cheeks to redden like a rose. Amused, she wrapped her arms around his chest from behind, and forced him to fall on the side, so they would both be laying.

"Well turn around." she ordered him impatiently, yet still sounding amused. "_You_ are supposed to hug _me,_ not the opposite."

"I remember saying I would _let you_ hug me." he snapped back, sounding on the defensive. She felt him take a deep _nervous_ breath. "I dare not turn around." he finally admitted. "This is as far as I- AH!" He shrieked when she jumped on the other side so she would lay facing him. Their faces were only inches apart; so close they breathed each other's air.

(Lgolas POV)

The woman laughed full heartedly at his discomfort once more. He could only imagine how red his must have been, and how frightened he must have looked. His heart beat way too fast for it to be healthy. And the worst was that his body was petrified; it would not move back to put some distance between them. He could only hope his body would not betray him like it had after he had seen her in the kitchen, like after she had pulled on his ears to tease him the day she had found out where his office was, and like those few other times...

Focusing on not forgetting to breathe, he had not noticed Irony had changed position. She had curled around him. Her head was lightly above his, he could feel her chin pressed against the top of his forehead. One of her arm was under his head, like a pillow, and the other rested on his shoulder while her fingers tangled in his hair. She had one leg between his, what he deemed too intimate a gesture but enjoyed very much. His face was lost in her chest, his nose between her breasts. One was against the mattress but the other brushed against his face, and was very soft. Remembering that one of the merchants had called her 'soft breast', he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer as if to protect her.

She smelled of lemon and honey, bitter yet sweet and addictive. Her scent made him forget his uneasiness, rank, problems and just like that he was convinced that all the comfort and love in the world was to be found there, within Irony, between her breasts.

Her sole reaction to his hug was a giving him a kiss on the forehead. That made Legolas realize that Irony had never actually said that she loved him though what she had mumbled had been close. But he didn't mind. She didn't have to say it ever as long as she kept showing it the way she did every day. She asked after him, she had food sent to him, sometimes, she winked at him from afar, she also held his hand behind her back when no one was looking and she smiled at him as though they shared a secret no one else was to know. He loved all this. All these little attentions made dark days seem brighter, and there were yet such simple attentions.

Legolas wasn't sure how long they had stayed in this position, but probably for a long time for Irony began to snore. The soft and yet somehow masculine sound made him want to laugh, but being afraid to wake her, he kept quiet.

Still dreaming, the human moved to curle up against his chest, seeking for warmth. When he looked at her, he noticed that even asleep, her lips curled up in that suspicious grin of hers and it made him smile, as he wrapped his arms tighter around her. She felt tiny and fragile. It reminded him of when he used to hold her arm tightly when they fought and it left an ugly bruise on it for days after that. He had never intended on hurting her by doing that. He had simply not realized how fragile human bodies were compared to elven ones.

Until he heard the sound of the horn announcing the change of guards on the wall, he had stayed with her, wishing every day could start by her being in his arms, then him kissing her forehead while she slept soundly.

* * *

(Thranduil POV)

As he watched his son walk towards the wall the king felt his anger quieten slightly. It had not gone without his noticing that his son had wasted an undoubtedly precious amount of time on the human during the past weeks. He understood that Legolas wished to repay his debts to her by giving him his attention and covering her with queenly gift -that she never wore- for she had saved his life no less than three times, found a lost jewel that belonged to his mother and delivered an Ochrist to the elves for safe keeping but this 'friendship', if it went as far as that, was both unnatural and unwelcomed. Which is why Thranduil had delayed all of his paper work onto his son, commanded Tauriel to give him more time on the wall while Galdor was in charged of intensifying his training so that the prince would have less time to reinforce whatever frail ties linked him to the mortal creature.

"_And who gave him the authority the authority to replace Bodhien?_" he asked the Commander of his army, sounding angry.

"_Since prince Legolas consented-_"

"_Consented? And since when does my golden soldiers answer to Legolas before me?_" Galdor did not answer to that. Not that the commander did not dare to speak his mind. He simply knew that Thranduil already had the answer to that question: all elves regarded the balrog slayer so highly that they would conform to his every wishes unless the king himself or Galdor ordered them against it.

Thranduil sighted. "_Why does the half-elven curses me with his beloved spy?_" he grumbled. The sindar was never fond of the Lord of Imladris...nor of the lady of Lorien...nor of any elf who did not hail from his kingdom. He did not hate other elves per say, but neither did he counted them among his friends. To him they were allies when needed, and curious intruders the rest of the time. Elves from other realms lived bending to different rules, considered Thranduil's grip on his throne too tight, thought his court too strict, and his people too wild and stubborn. They simply did not understand the elves from his woods.

"_The Lord Glorfindel is not a spy,"_argued Galdor. Thranduil felt exasperated by this answer though he knew it to be true: the lord of the Golden Flower was everything but a spy. He could not even spy on a dwarf if he wanted to; he was an excellent fighter, but had the attention span of a simple child. "_And Lord Elrond would not have sent him if he did not have a part to play in what is happening here._"

The king turned around with grace, making his robe swirl. "_And what exactly __**is**__ happening here?"_he started none too pleased, pacing across the balcony to stand face to face to Galdor.._ "An army of spiders has invaded my lands!_ _How, pray tell me, __**how**__ is Glorfindel to fix that?" _The king knew his face must have been red with rage, and yet, his Commander remained impassive in front of him. "_He may be worth ten elves on the field, but ten elves is the required number to kill __**one **__spider."_ The king took a deep breath to regain his calm._ "If lord Elrond had truly wanted to help us get rid of our plague, he would have sent a whole unit, not one elf alone. If the balrog slayer is here, it is-"_

"_That Elrond has had a vision, and has sent him here for a purpose."_cut the commander. The dark haired elf put a friendly hand on his sovereign's shoulder_. "There is no elf so kind-hearted as the lord Glorfindel; his task may not be to help us terminate the spiders, but I am certain he will bring no evil upon us. Perhaps, he will even get us rid of one."_

The king's eyebrows relaxed. _"Could Elrond has have a vision about the woman?"_

"_I do not know, but why else would the balrog slayer have volunteered to guard the mortal?" _replied Galdor, as he straightened his back up._ "We should watch the both of them from afar for now, until we have gathered more information."_

* * *

**A/N:** Omg, am so sorry if I update less often x)))My work is currently eating my life and I have exams coming up at the same time..am dying x)))

Anywayyyyyyy, I was glad to read that you liked the arrival of Kili and Glorfindel! I wonder how that's going to play out for Legolas B)


	23. Waterfall of gold and expectations

**Waterfall of gold and expectations**

The balrog slayer gave Irony a look of both desperation and amusement when she showed him how she held a sword. Everything about the way she did it must have been wrong, she concluded with annoyance. Not that she had expected that once she would have picked an elvish sword up in her hands she would have suddenly known how to swing it, but she had hoped that she could at least hold it right after having seen so many people doing it.

"How bad ?" she mouthed, squinting her eyes unhappily.

Glorfindel shook his head a little, the tiniest of smiles formed on the corner of thin his lips. " The legs are well placed...But your hands..." He sighed. "And your torso...Your are open for every opponent to slice you in two distinct halves." he said as he walked to place himself behind her. He then placed his hands on her waist to turn it slightly to the right. _Oh_, his hands were big, and impossibly expert.

"You have done this before." she said, as he bent over from behind her and began to move her right hand to place it in the right position. His hair fell in front of her face in a waterfall of pale yellow and gold. He smelled of columbines and melancholy, if one could smell like melancholy.

"What it is that you speak of?" he asked, on his usual calm tone. Somehow, it was not hard to focus on his soft baritone voice despite the violent clashing of blades coming from the other elves training around them.

Irony felt herself grow uncomfortable. The lord of the golden flower had never been anything but sweet to her since they had met, but there was _something_ about him she could not get used: the way magic emanated from him. Maybe it was_ not_ magic, but that was the only way she could put it: he felt magical, and for some reason, she sensed it as a danger.

"Teach the sword." she answered, hiding her uneasiness, as he took her other hand in his and wrapped it firmly around the sword's hilt. She noticed that her skin was now almost as pale as his for she had been avoiding the sun's light.

"In Imladris," he started as he poked the blade she held to make sure her grip on it was tight enough. "I teach the basics of sword fighting to elflings, young scouts." The warmth of his voice told Irony that the elf either loved his students or teaching, dearly. Maybe both. Probably both. Glorfindel seemed to love everything. Even the orcs, in a way. Talking about them had made him sad for what he saw in them was torture and pain, and he wished he could take it away from them so that they may live without hatred and anger as sole feelings. Irony had snorted loudly when he had told her that. According to her, there was nothing left to be saved in orcs. They were damned creatures; taking away their rage wouldn't change a thing for she knew they mostly killed for pleasure and not out of anger.

She grinned. "I bet they're mostly girls." she teased. But the elf must have been even more innocent than Legolas for his only reaction was to open his eyes wide, in surprise.

"How did you come to know that?" he asked still under the shock of her wild guess. Well, not so wild of a guess; only one look at the elf was enough to give away the fact that anything born with a vagina was most definitely attracted to him.

"Have you ever seen your face in a mirror?" she laughed. The elf frowned a little at her question seemingly having finally understood what she had meant.

"Of course I have." he replied grumpily as a small frown formed on his face. He seemed to think that she doubted the efficiency of his teaching and felt offended by it. "I doubt my features have anything to do with my students commitment to learning the arts of bla-" He stopped in mid-sentence when Irony grabbed a lock of his hair that had been flying too close to her eyes for her liking, with the intention push it away.

The elf gently, but awkwardly pulled away from her without saying a word, forcing her to release silky golden fabric. Uncomprehending his reaction, she stared at him questioningly, waiting for an explanation.

"It is most inappropriate to touch a Noldo's hair." he offered as sole explanation, sounding truly bothered by what she had done.

Irony raised a brow, as she dropped the position she had been in, being more interested in understanding elven customs than in wielding swords. "I thought it was touching an elf's ear that was inappropriate?"

The lord folded the sleeves of his white tunic, on which flowers of the same shades of gold and yellow of his hair were sewed. Then he tilted his head to the side and let out a tired sighed. " I am very old." he told her, partially smiling. "The customs I was raised to abide to have evolved. The elves of this age are much more accepting of what is or isn't appropriate when it comes to male and female relationships." He pulled his long hair behind, and tied them up in a ponytail as he glanced behind Irony, at the elves fighting. "And all those relationship rules vary a lot, depending on your origin." He paused, seemingly to think of a way to illustrate his arguments. "To Sinda, touching one's ear is a very intimate move elves in courting use to tease and flirt with one another. What they truly deem socially unacceptable is sharing in a bed with someone of the opposite sex, even if absolutely no contact between the unbonded elves is to be had. And to them touching one's hair is only a kind gesture, a show of affection. For Noldo, so long as there is no intimate contact between two unbonded elves, they are free to share a bed if they wish to. When it comes the touching of one's ear, depending on their relationship, it can be regarded as a simple affectionate gesture or as an invitation to mating. And touching one's hair is to Noldo what touching one's ear is to Sinda: only lovers in courting may do it."

Irony closed an eye as she processed all the information the balrog slayer had just given her. "Are you are telling me that you'd rather I touch your ears than I touch your hair, even if simply to brush it away from my face?" _This makes no sense. _

The elf half nodded as one his brow furrowed in discomfort. "I would rather you refrain from touching either one." he admitted. Irony raised both brows at that. The elf did not mind physical contact the least, from what she had gathered. He had pulled her to him to lift her so she could pick fruits up several times; when they walked the corridors his hand rested on her shoulder most of the time; and he had even kissed her forehead the day she had asked him to teach her how to wield a weapon. Yet, she was to keep her hands away from his _hair_..._Another elf thing I will never understand._

" Are you truly an elf?" she ended up asking him. Very much like Legolas, Glorfindel did not speak often, so Irony had to make the best out of the moments during which he felt talkative.

The elf seemed taken aback. "Do I not look like one?" he asked, sounding amused by her observation.

She furrowed her brows as she was unsure as to how to answer that question. "You look the same as the others, but you are different." she affirmed. "The first time I saw you I felt..I cannot explain." She bit her lips in apprehension as she felt his mood darken ever so slightly, while his eyes focused on her questioningly. _He knows, _she heard herself think. _But he cannot know...Does he know about the Black Knight?_ Her thirst and hunger suddenly intensified._ "_I felt a chill run down my spine and...I do not know, I lack the words..but I had never felt that way before before." she admitted.

Glorfindel held her gaze for a few seconds. When sadness and shame took them over, he lowered his honey brown eyes to the floor. Irony was confused as she searched his bothered face for answers, while he avoided her gaze. "I am elven." he told her after a while. "But you are right, I am different." he sounded almost pained. The way he never bothered to hide he way he felt was both touching, and most unnerving at the same time. _I bet I could have gotten a lot more than immortality if I had sold him to the Black Knight._

Irony lacked the words to comfort him. And as the cause of his suffering was unknown to her, all she could manage to do was offer him a friendly hand to hold. And he held it firmly and hesitantly until startled by the loud sound of an armour meeting the hard ground, he brought both of his hands to the heavy sword tied at his belt, by reflex.

Irony heard familiar voices yell rather unkindly. She turned around. Legolas was on the dusty floors, cursing, while Galdor stood over him, barking angry words at the prince in their lovely tongue. Judging by all the bruises and cuts on the prince's' white skin, it seemed that the Commander had given 'his grace' a royal beating. When Legolas furiously threw his sword on the other side of the room, Irony took a step back as if to avoid the blade though it had not been thrown in her direction. Galdor shouted louder at the blond elf still on the floor. Without answering, and reluctantly so, the prince stood and paced across the room to fetch his sword, barely containing his anger.

The balrog slayer's large hand squeezed Irony's shoulder lightly. When she looked up, she found that he was still looking in the prince's direction. He seemed to empathize with Legolas's frustration. _Maybe that's what his problem is : he empathizes too much with people._

"Why are they so angry?" she asked him.

The balrog slayer furrowed his brows with sympathy, his eyes never leaving the prince. "Much is expected from Legolas, and today, he does not meet the commander's expectations." He lowered his eyes to look into Irony's. "The moon must have climbed high in the sky by now. I should walk you back to your chamber."

The tone he had used may have been soft and kind, but Irony knew better than to think he had only been suggesting that she should go back. It had been as an order. So she gave her guard the weapon she had not swung at all, and let him put it back where it belonged, while she waited patiently, staring at Galdor hitting and pushing and slashing at Legolas, who, in her opinion, fought back more than well enough.

* * *

Legolas POV

Legolas's shoulder hurt. Galdor had yanked it out of its socket, and although it was back in place, the pain was still there, and _throbbing_. He had wanted to go to Irony for comfort, but he could not see her. It seemed that the one time he truly needed her attention, Glorfindel had thought it the right day to start actually guarding her door, like he had been supposed to do all along, so he had to search for affection elsewhere.

"_You had not joined me on the wall during your free time since before the war._" said Tauriel as she circled the blond elf. She seemed slightly worried about all of his bruises as she inspected them in a motherly fashion. When she poked of the violet marks, he winced, so she rubbed the darkened skin gently, as if to make the pain go away. "_Am I to understand that the lord of the golden flower finally guards her door, or that she refused to let you in_?" asked the elleth grinning, as she let go of his arm to sit down.

Unfortunately, the prince was not prepared to answer that question. His mouth opened, but when no words came to his mind, it closed, leaving him standing there, bewildered. "_You think yourself sneaky, don't you?_" She laughed at him full heartedly. "_I was appointed captain of the guard in your stead because naught can happen in this realm without me knowing of it_." she affirmed, proudly. Legolas suddenly remembered that a long time ago, they had competed to be at the head of guard. Now he was glad he had not been chosen ; patrolling was not something he enjoyed doing very much. It was too repetitive of an activity.

The prince's body stiffened. "_ If you have noticed, then my father and Galdor mus-_"

"_They have noticed as well._" she confirmed, cutting him in the process. Legolas felt the air leave his lungs." _Why else do you think your hours of training and patrolling have suddenly doubled_?" she asked. "_But fear not; they may have noticed that your are kind to the human, but neither one of them can conceive the idea that the heir to the throne could feel something for a mortal._" she assured him. And she sounded certain enough for Legolas to allow himself to relax a little.

Sighing, he sat near her holding his knees with his arms, as his eyes fixed the floor. He was exhausted; both physically and emotionally. Training with Galdor had always made his blood boil. The older ellon was as harsh on him as his father was, so disappointing him hurt almost as much as disappointing his father did. He wished he could be a better elf. He wished he could fight like the balrog slayer, be as quick to analyze a situation as Irony, as focused as Tauriel, and as good a politician as his father, but those were not his qualities. Everyone said he was very much like his late mother: his real strength laid not in his ability to fight, but in the kindness of his heart. He sighed again and buried his face a little more in his knees, wishing they were Irony's breasts, and that the rest of the world did not matter.

"_Did you tell her?_" he heard Tauriel ask him. He tilted his head up to look at the elleth, unsure of what she had meant. "_Does the human know how you feel?_"

Legolas bit his lower lip. He had assumed that Irony felt the same towards him as he felt towards her and that no words needed to be spoken. But that was before he had realized how close she had become to the Noldo. She had touched his _hair_. Then she had taken his hand in hers, and he had let her do so. Maybe she had tired of him and replaced him. That wouldn't surprise him: he had barely had a minute to spare for her the past days. "_I did not tell her_." he replied shaking his head. "_I am afraid to tell her for maybe she doesn't feel the same way_." His fingers dug in the fabric of his pants. "_Were you afraid loving the dwarf?"_

Tauriel smiled brightly at him. "_I was __**terrified**_." she laughed. "_So terrified, in fact, that I rejected him so I wouldn't have to explore the unknown. But he fought for me._"

Love and certainty. It was all over Tauriel's delicate features. And it suited her. Her eyes gleamed differently than they had before; they were kinder, warmer, _happier_. She loved a dwarf, she was proud of it, and she did not care if people were bothered by this unlikely union. She was radiant with joy despite the circumstances. Needless to say that Legolas envied her for that too: her courage. Not that he was not brave, only that he was differently brave. Fighting with a sword and killing could be improvised; blindly committing in having a life long relationship with someone was a different matter.

He thought about doing like Tauriel; he thought about rejecting Irony. If she loved him back, logic would have it that she would fight for him, like the dwarf had fought for the fiery elleth. But Irony was not a fighter, she was a _quitter_. She had said so herself a countless number of times: she was a coward, and did not let herself be bothered by things she deemed too complicated. If he rejected her, she would walk away, he was certain of it.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Glorfindel origins:** I thought I should explain a bit why Glorfindel is so different from other elves (if you have read the Silmarillion, you can skip this x) ).

The lord of the golden flower is one of the first born : so basically one of the first

elves to have awakened at the very beginning of elven history. Then, long story short, he had to leave Aman (continent situated in the west of middle earth) to go to middle middle earth, where he ended up dying fighting a balrog, but was sent back to middle earth with powers similar to those of the Maiar (=Gandalf, Saruman like beings) instead of being sent to Valinor because the Valar were impressed with his selflessness and sacrifice for the people of Gondolin.

So he is this dude who _didn't _want to go to middle, but went anyway, died there, and was sent back there x)

Also I write that he is Noldo, because well, he _is N_oldo, but since he is blond, his mother must have been Vanya.

**Jessy,** thank you very much for your comment. I am also working on writing Irony's adventures before the beginning of this story, starting from when she was 4 up until she ended up living with the orcs: so no elves nor magic but still the 'medieval' era and no pressure from the Tolkien world (apart from the orcs, but they won't be important until late in the story) 8D . I really love this character and I wanted to build her background story because all the things that happened to her before this fic are what build her temper and are actually interesting adventures. But for now it really is just the skeleton of a story and needs some skin and life to it.

And no, no one should forget her babies will be eaten ;**) **

**Guests**, I am really glad you're enjoying the story so much 8D I'll finish this story for sure but I may not post on regular basis because of work, and I am sorry about that :/

Also, yup, Thranduil and Irony are actually quite similar in some ways. There will be some interaction between the two of them sometime in the future where that will be made slightly more obvious.

Thanks for everyone's support! Reading the comments actually motivates me to write more and to improve the story's plot and characters 3

Also, I'm starting another fic (but _Oh!Sweet Irony_ remains my priority so I won't update the other one as often) with Glorf/OC (it will be quite different from this one) for all the Glorf fans out there 'cause... there just aren't enough fic of him x) The summary of that story is really shit, but I promise the rest won't be x))


	24. A game of Lords and Ladies

**A game of Lords and Ladies**

(Irony POV)

The trumpets rang again, making Irony cover her ears. There was ever only one thing she could _never_ cope with: the crying noise trumpets made. And today, the elves rang it so often, Irony felt as though they were doing it on purpose to unnerve her, though she knew it was the instrument they always used during contests.

The trumpet rung again, calling for Legolas to take place for the bow shooting. Before going, he bowed to the king and his guests of honour, among which Glofindel was not sitting for he was a contestant, despite the fact that the game had been organized to entertain him, or so the king had claimed. Irony suspected Thranduil only wanted to show off his son's abilities. And it was working out well so far: Legolas had impressed every one with his riding abilities, and caused every one gasp and panic when he was he hit by Galdor during the sword fighting.

Irony gently pulled on Findel's tunic when some ellyth standing among the lords started agitating ribbons of different colours, again, to Legolas, who, this time, took notice of them and seemed not to know which one to pick.

"Why do they keep trying to give him those ribbons every time he bows to the Lords?" she asked the balrog slayer when he turned to look at her.

" For ellyth, it is a way of attracting a male's attention. And for ellon it is a way of showing to the ladies which one he favours most."

Irony kept silent and watched as Legolas, who had ignored the ribbons so far, grabbed one the same colour of his eyes. The elleth to whom it belonged came on the contest grounds with a smile that could have out-shined the sun, bowed to the prince, and happily tied her ribbon around his right arm. When Legolas kissed her hand, Irony held a frown, but could not prevent herself from groaning in discontentment while rolling her eyes.

Glorfindel who saw her reaction chuckled, what angered her even more. Findel very well might be the kindest existing elf, but she thought him especially arrogant and kept telling him he had spent too much time with humans. Still, she loved spending time with him. The past fortnights he had taught her the basics of swords, taught her more curses in elvish, taken her around the King's Garden, told her about epic battles of the past and stayed with her until she fell asleep.

She wondered if that was the reason why Legolas had been avoiding her recently. He had opened the door on Glorfindel laying near her once, and left immediately after having blurted out something no one understood. Nothing was happening between Findel and her though, and the balrog slayer didn't seem to think there was cause to make a fuss out of him laying in her bed since there had been no physical contact of any sort between the two of them. He had even said that wood elves were too stuck up and that the prince had probably thought their behavior too casual for non-bonded people. When Glofindel had said that, Irony had almost fainted for having laughed too much. The fact that the elf who did not want anyone touching his hair called the other elf 'stuck up' had been too ridiculous for her to handle.

"Why did no one give _you_ a ribbon, _Balrog Slayer_?"

"Because Mirkwood's ellyth are not easily impressed." he answered. "Balrogs are probably what they break their fast with in this realm, if you want my opinion."

Irony and Glofindel's attention were once more drawn to Legolas when the trumpet rang again, making Irony stuff her ears with her little fingers. Legolas had hit his first target right in the middle. For some reason, that small achievement made Irony smile. Then Legolas hit his second target, right in the middle again. That time, feeling as proud as if she had shot the arrow herself, Irony began to shout encouragements like the rest of the elves were doing.

Every time the prince fired, he hit the centre the targets, even the moving ones, causing every one to gasp in delight at his every move.

"Does he ever miss?" Irony asked Glorfindel who began to stretch lazily for he was next. He had done more than well so far, and without much effort. Irony thought he would not be as great this time though: she had never seen him hold a bow. Even when he had come to the realm, he had only brought swords.

"Word is he never does." replied the Balrog Slayer unmoved. He settled his quiver on his back, then took his bow with a hand, ready to leave and take place when the trumpet would ring twice, calling for him.

TUUUUUUUUuuuuT! TUUUUUUUUuuuut!

"Wait!" Irony yelled at him before he could walk out of her reach. Glofindel turned around. "Here." she said, as she removed one the many ribbons of her elvish dress and tied it around one of his strong arms. "Do not shame me." she told him, grinning.

"Bring shame to myself while wearing the ribbon the human captive living in Greenwood gave me? I would not dream of doing such a thing." he mused, clearly making fun of her. So she snorted and waved her hand to shoo him away.

Glorfindel positioned himself taking his sweet time. Contrary to when Legolas had taken place, no one was shouting encouragement. But as soon as the Balrgog slayer's first arrow literally split in two the prince's arrow, the silence was broken by murmures and the sound of sharp inhalations. Glorfindel shoot a second arrow, then a third and a fourth, and a fifth and on and on, repeating the same prowess, until none of the prince's arrow was not rifted in two seemingly equal parts.

Irony was the first to stand up and applaud. The king and the lords followed as soon as they were able to swallow their pride and shock.

"How?" Irony asked her friend soon as he regained his seat in front of her.

" You ribbon brought me luck." he told her smirking. "Or maybe it is just that I never miss either."

"What do you want?" snapped the prince without even turning around to look at who had come in. He was cleaning the already clean swords he had used. Irony wondered if it was something he did to calm down when he was upset.

"To congratulate you." answered Irony as she put all of Glorfindel's stuff on a shelf. She had volunteered to bring it back here when she had seen Legolas enter the armoury from afar. Glorfindel was not exactly doing a good job at watching her though he had been trying harder the past couple of days. He basically let her go wherever she wanted on the sole condition that she was not leaving for a long time.

Legolas sighed when he recognized Irony's voice. That annoyed her._ Well, I am not wanted here it seems._ "I could do without your sarcasm." he said as he removed his quiver.

Growing tired of his being moody, Irony spun him around so that he would face her. "That was not sarcastic." she assured him. He frowned and stayed silent for a minute, during which Irony stared at his chest. He was wearing the green ranger tunic he had worn all along their adventures in what she know thought as 'the outside world'. Feeling nostalgic of this time, she brushed the dust off the cloth. She liked him better with this on than with his other clothes. The rest of his tunics were all made with silver or golden threads, or encrusted with jewels, and reminded her that they did not come from the same worlds.

She wondered how things had come to this. At first, she couldn't have cared less about him, then she had used him for protection, somehow she had begun to enjoy his company, then she had started having butterflies in her stomach when he came close to her, and now...Now it was something else entirely. It sent a good chill down her spine when he smiled, she felt comfortable with him, she knew she could tell him all her secrets – well, _almost_ all of them – , she loved that he trusted her enough to share his. He made her feel like she was _home_. She felt safe with him. And that was not a sensation she had known often in her short life.

"Why else would you congratulate me? I won nothing." he said. She had known he wouldn't be a good loser, though she had not expected him to be so grumpy. He acted like such a child sometimes. But then again, he was a prince, so she guessed he was allowed to be capricious sometimes. She was too when she cared enough about something to be. She was capricious when he didn't make time for her.

"You came close second." she pointed out. "Is that not good enough for you, princeling?"

"I was third." He sighed. "Galdor beat me at the joust _and_ with the swords." he said sounding exasperated. Obviously he had thought he would win.

"Well, you are the third best in the realm." Irony rolled her eyes. It didn't really matter if he had won or not. He had shown off his skills and every body knew he was close to unbeatable, so there was nothing to grumble about.

Her eyes drifted to the blue ribbon on his arm, and she ripped it off there, not realizing that _she_ was also over reacting. Leogolas did not even notice that she had untied the ribbon. But that fact made Irony smile interiorly for it meant he did not cared about it. And probably not about the elleth who had tied it there.

"Second," corrected the prince, "Glorfindel does not belong here." he added, sounding angrier than before.

"And neither do I," she snapped back at him. "Should I leave when he does, then?" she asked, unnerved by his reaction. He was treating Glorfindel like the others treated her. No one gave them the chance to truly fit in. Oh they were all courteous, and careful, and polite, but they were also _false_ with them because they were outsiders.

Not waiting for an answer, she turned around and headed for the door.

"No. I am sorry!" exclaimed the prince as he caught her arm to prevent her from leaving. "Please stay, even if just a little more." he pleaded on the same tone he had used when he had asked to go to the clairvoyant. She remembered that the prediction that had been written on her hand had been incomplete.

Irony hesitated. A part of her bagged her to do as he asked, to stay so that they could be together a little while longer. But another part wanted to punish him for being an arrogant elf prince. "No." she said then wrenched free. But before she could take a step forward, he had grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him, leaving no space between her back and his torso.

By the tightness of his grip and the way his hands shook, Irony understood that he only half aware of what he was starting. He rarely acted only on impulsions.

"Glorfindel...do you favour him over me?" he asked. He brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, then bent so he could whisper in her ear. "Tell me you don't." His breath felt warm against her neck. And when he applied a gentle kiss on her neck Irony felt her stomach squirm and her skin prickle. The contact was so unexpected that it made her forget to breathe for a second. Instinctively, she put her hands on his.

_Desire. How primal,_ she thought, as she restrained herself from assailing the prince.

"I don't." she heard herself answer. She wondered how her mouth could have spoken those words when she had not asked it to make a sound. He did not reply to that, and despite not being able to see his face, she knew he was grinning. The idiot liked it way too much when she lost control of herself, even if just for a second.

He nibbled on her ear a little, then kissed her neck once. Then twice, a little lower. Then trice, on the shoulder, though the fabric of her gown covered it. "Your dress is offending." he complained. "I would have ripped it off if-" he stopped. And he must have suddenly remembered he was a gallant prince and not an animal for he put some distance between them and his cheeks turned pink. "I do not mean to force you into doing anything you would deem inappropriate." he said, sounding _sorry _for her.

Irony roared in laughters."Some time ago I was a whore!" she reminded him. "What, on this earth, could _I_ deem inappropriate?!" The prince seemed to have no answer for that, and the thought of it, made his cheeks turn from pink like a flower to strawberry red. " You know, I don't like this dress either," she started looking down at her dress. It wasn't a lie: this very dress she did not like. She thought it was too full of ribbons and too restricting. "But it would be a shame to rip it off." she added grinning. "It is made of fine, expensive silk, I can tell."

"I would have offered you another one, had this one been torn to shreds." answered the prince. The fact that he seemed _not_ to have picked up that she was flirting with him amused Irony. She wondered how long it would take to make him understand what she was aiming at.

"Well, you could have unlaced it," she said, as she began to undo the knots of the laces on each side of the gown. "And watched it slide off me." The dress did not fall for more laces held it in place. But having understood the message this time, the prince made his way towards her. But Irony took a step back. "Uh uh. If you take this off me," she started, pointing at the dress, "I will be left in smallclothes only. So it is only fair that _you_ take something off first."

Without hesitation, the prince removed both his green tunic and his under-shirt, seemingly eager for only one thing: helping her out of her dress. Only wearing his black breeches and boots, he pulled her to him grinning like a wolf about to a eat a plump lamb, not caring if the sweat running down his body would wet her clothes. And Irony cared even less.

She crashed her lips against his, tangling her fingers in the gold of his hair as she deepened the kiss. It was the first time they shared a kiss. Or at least one that lasted more than a second, and that both parties consented to share.

For someone who had never been with a woman before, the elf had quite expert hands, she thought. While they kissed, he had undone all of her dress' laces without her noticing it. If their bodies had not been pressed against one another, the fabric would have already slid off her and fallen on the ground.

Breaking the kiss, Legolas began to suck the skin of her neck in his mouth, as his hands shyly clutched to the fabric of her dress. It seemed he would not be more daring if she did not give him a little push.

She let go of the princes hair, to slowly rub the tip of his ears with her thumbs. She knew he would like it. The friction caused Legolas to groan a little as he dug his fingers in her back. After having captured her lips quickly, the elf held Irony at arm distance, so that he could see all of her.

The dress having fallen, Irony was left with only a thin see-through white under-dress that did not quite reach her knees.

She was intrigued by the way the prince looked at her: as if he had never seen her naked before, as if it was the first time he had ever seen a _woman _at all. It was apparent that he craved for her the same way she craved for him.

However his expression quickly changed. It was not excitement and lust she saw in his eyes any more, but guilt and a hint of regret. The prince let go of her hand to pick her dress up, dusted it and hand it to her as he looked the other way.

"I should not have started this... It was-"

"No, you should not have _stopped_ this. 'This' was _good_." she objected. "I was enjoying myself very much, and am more than willing if that is what you are still worried about."

"That is not what bothers me." he said, urging her to take the dress with an insistent gesture of the hand. Reluctantly she grabbed it."I will not lie: I desire you." he said, with a shaky voice. "However, I cannot, should not, nor will dishonour you in this manner. You deserve a proper courting first, like a proper lady."

Irony could not help but snort as she slipped back inside her dress. "A lady, granted I can act as, but does _anything_ about me strike you as bloody _proper_?!" she growled. "I am perfectly fine with having sex on the floors of an elven armoury." she added, still bitter. _That would have been the fanciest place in which I would have ever had sex in, _but that she would not tell him. She did not intend on sounding angry but the frustration she felt at the moment could not be express any other way. Humans and elves were both animals in the end, were they not? So why not fuck like such? Irony saw nothing wrong with that.

"I do not want to have sex with you, I want to _make love_ to you." he snapped back, sounding offended, as he turned to face her, wearing a small frown.

If Irony had been drinking or eating something right now, she would have spit it so his answer had been unexpected. She wanted to say something in return, but all her body allowed her to do was cock her head to the side like an owl, and let go of her dress. The cloth fell down the ground again, as soon as she stopped holding it. And as if the moment was not already too intense for her to handle, the armoury doors slammed open, revealing Glorfindel, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

Reacting fast enough, the Balrog Slayer closed the door before anyone else could see them, and glared at them both with thunder in his beautiful honey brown eyes.

Legolas jumped in front of Irony and shielded her from view while she made herself proper for every one to look upon. By the time she was dressed, the furry in Glofindel's eyes had disappeared and he seemed to have regained his usual calm self again.

The two ellon stared at each other right in the eyes, in silence. Legolas seemed to be torn by guilt still, a little bit of shame and a lot of determination. On the other side, the Balrog Slayer had his uncaring look on again, tainted by a little bit of what seemed to be amusement.

"I tripped and the ribbons got undone." lied Irony, knowing full well it was a stupid thing to say. Whatever her guard thought had been happening was probably closer to what had truly happened than what she had just told him. But it mattered not, all she wanted was to do was break the tension there was in the room. Despite the fact that neither one of the two males were displaying any animosity towards one another, the Black Knight night himself had never made the temperature drop so low as it was now.

"I am sure you did, little clumsy lady." replied Glofindel, finally acknowledging her presence. "And I am certain your grace's tunic fell off when he tripped as well." he told Legolas, before picking the green piece of clothing and handing it to its rightful owner. "Your King is wondering where you are." he added not so warmly.

The prince squeezed into his tunic, bowed and left without saying a word. Irony felt as though both elves had had an unspoken conversation she had not been invited to take part in. _Irritating...elves!_

It was about time something had happened! Do not think this is the end of the chapter...because it is not!

Sorry for posting late, am still super busy at the moment I probably won't update next week, but I'll make it up to you by updating two cool chapters the week after 8D I'll also answer to all your lovely comments next time I'll update because right now I have to hurry and dive back into the learning of mathematics...joy...OTL


	25. Mean Gamble

**Mean Gamble**

"Inside the armory, really? With unlocked doors, for every one to enter?" said Findel, with suspiciously squinted eyes, as soon as the door closed behind Legolas. "The two of you might want to be more discrete." Irony growled. She had naively wished that her..._thing_ with Legolas would not be discovered. At least not so soon.

As she began lacing her dress properly so no one would notice she had lost it at some point, she spoke, "I know not what you speak of." She sounded very convincing, she knew. But Glorfindel had seen way too much to believe that.

"Oh, you do." he started again, half laughing. He came closer, and helped tying the ribbons over her shoulders. She thought it strange for an elf to initiate physical contact, no matter how small it was. Though, it did not feel uncomfortable with Findel. It felt like they were family, like they had known each other forever although they only had roughly spent four months in each other's company. "I can tell a secret." He grinned. "Oh, my. My tongue _slipped_. I meant I can _keep_ a secret."

By the tone of his voice, Irony knew he had faked the 'slipping' of his tongue. What she could not tell was if he was being serious or not. "That is not amusing, Glorinfdel!" Her brows furrowed as she waited impatiently fro him to say something. But he was not saying a word, and smirked still like defiant child. "Well, will you keep the secret or not?" she insisted.

He pretended to be thinking about it and when she snorted, he finally spoke."I will." he assured her, smiling warmly. His grin was incredibly annoying, but his gentle smile was always comforting for some reason. It inspired trust, a thing Irony was not used to give away so easily. "But if any of the king's guards were to find out, know they won't remain silent about it." he said on an aggravated tone.

"And what is it to the king if his son and I - _tripped_?"

Findel laughed at that. But quickly regained his serious. "He has only _one_ child. Legolas is his only family." He furrowed a brow. "King Thranduil will not let him pledge himself to a _human_, let alone a low born. He wants what is best for Legolas." he explained. The arguments did not quite suffice for one to oppose to the union of two consenting adults, thought Irony. "Plus, it would mean bidding farewell to his only heir."

Irony remained silent for a second, thinking. If the king desperately wanted a heir, then why not find himself a new wife and make another? She remembered the man with the Red beard saying something about 'one woman for life' and all she was told about the 'bond'. But even if it were all true, if the king's 'one woman' had died, or had left him, surely he was now free to take another?

She wondered why Glorfindel seemed so eager for her to call things off with the prince. She was certain her guard had no romantic interest towards her, so why? Why was he trying to make her change her mind? _There must be something he is not telling me. Maybe I could go around it somehow._

"Tauriel?" she threw at the elf, wondering why, if the king was so strict about it, Legolas had showed his love for her so blatantly.

"She liked the prince not the way he did her." he reminded her. "And even if she had, I heard the King had told her he would not allow their union."

"But she is captain of the guard!"

"She is no less low born." insisted Glorfindel. "Welcome to the court of the Woodland Realm: the strictest out of all the elven realms. Yet it is said these elves are the wildest upon middle earth. Sinda and silvan make a most peculiar team."

"You seem to listen to gossips more often than you actually do any work." she teased. "So much for the hero Legolas tried to make be believe you are."

"I have _elven ears_; I need not listen to hear, my little friend."

Irony shook her head smiling slightly at her friend's reply. "You did not truly walk in on us, did you?" she asked him as they headed to the doors.

"It was no coincidence, no." he confirmed. "I followed you, then stood outside, in front of the doors to ensure no one would walk in on you."

Irony raised a brow. She had underestimated him. "You are smarter than you let people think you are." It sounded more like reproach than a compliment. Glorfindel's lips curled a little on the sides. "Were you even truly sent here to help with the spiders?" She was beginning to think it an excuse for something else. But what?

"The king may yet grant you to bond with his son; you speak the same accusations he does." The balrog slayer's words were said with no bitterness in them, but made Irony shiver in annoyance all the same.

* * *

(Glorfindel POV)

The party organized for the winner was going more than well. After having had too much to drink and showed off his talents with the harp, the King had discretely ran away from his guests, leaving his tired son at the mercy of the Lords and Ladies political questions. Only Irony and the dwarf had not come. Or rather, had not been invited, although, Glorfindel had no doubt if either one of them had felt like joining in, they would have. But Irony had said that she was meeting with Galdor for one of their lessons. Glorfindel had thought it strange that a human would arrange to stay up so late in the night when they needed sleep, but Irony had explained that she was changing her sleeping habits so that she could observe elves live at night. The balrog slayer was only _half _convinced.

He focused on a pretty maid with the bright red hair of the wood elves, and kind brown eyes just like his. She was prettier than the others, he thought. And laughed more too. However, the prince, who sat near her, did not seem to care much for her company and excused himself as soon as the opportunity was given to him.

Slipping out of the conversation he was having with a couple who would soon leave for Rivendell, Glorfindel followed Legolas through the dark corridors of the castle without being noticed. When no one was around to hear them, he pushed the prince against a wall.

Startled, the younger elf was neutralized in no time. The Balrog Slayer would have laughed at that for the prince reminded him very much of his much younger students at the moment, but it would have defied the purpose of what he was planned on doing.

"_I helped her tie up the ribbons of her dress once you had left._" he told the Sinda. Legolas' face turned red almost immediately, and showing a strength Glorfindel had not expected the prince to have, the younger elf freed himself and tried to punch him. The Balrog Slayer avoided the fist, and was glad for it would probably have broken his nose. "_Knowing that makes you angry, doesn't it?_"

The prince tried to hit him a second time. Aware that they would not be able to have an actual conversation if the wood elf kept swinging at him, the Noldo grabbed the other ellon's fist the next time it was thrown in his direction, then locked his arm behind his back. "_Anger will do you no more good than your newly discovered 'impulsions'._" he told the prince nicely this time. He was done toying with him, he trusted the prince's feelings were real for he had chosen not to ask too much from Irony today. "_You ought to be more discreet about your feeling."_

"_I can control them no more than I can her._" replied Legolas, calming down. When his gaze had softened, Glofindel released him, and the prince rubbed his wrist frowning. _Still an elfling,_ thought the balrog slayer. _A gentle-hearted elfling in love with a clever girl who's loyalty has yet to be cleared._

"_Then you must learn to control them. Or make a decision_." he started again. He did not mean to put more pressure on the prince than he was already under, but if he truly loved Irony, like she seemed to love him, the prince had better bond with the mortal before his father found out and offered the poor girl to the spiders as a peace treaty. " _The longer this remains a secret, the more eyes will fall upon it, and it will be used against her_."

"_Against her?_" The prince seemed not to grasp how ugly things could turn.

"_Your people are not so fond of outsiders, and most are half convinced she is a spy of the dark lord, for she was able to retain the spider's venoms in her mouth without being hurt._" he reminded the younger elf. "_It would be suspicious if suddenly, the prince who has passed the common age of marrying was to fall for the mortal, who has spent four years living along with orcs in the dark lands_." Legolas's face closed. Yet Glorfindel could read both anger and worry on it. "I_f your father was to hear of it from the wrong mouth, it is not just your relationship that will be in peril, but her life as well. Unless... you two bond before he hears of it and giving him no other choice but to let her live_."

"_King Thranduil would nev-_"

"_He would._" interrupted the Balrog Slayer, hating to be the one to bring the bad news. "_Not to hurt you of course, but for the realm. You are his __**sole**__ heir. If you were to bond with the wrong person, or with a mortal, there will be no other to maintain what him and his father have built here._" Trying to be comforting, he patted the back of the elfling's shoulder. The contact felt awkward. Contrary to Irony, Legolas was not someone Findel could befriend 'naturally'. "_Surely you understand that_."

The prince rubbed his forehead, seeming desperate for a solution. And he eventually came up with one. "_If we had children, Irony and I._" he suggested. By the sound of his voice, Glorfindel could tell that the younger elf was excited at the prospect of it. He wondered if the prince had _actually met_ Irony. Letting her be a mother would be a life long punishment for the children coming out of her. She was mature enough to mother a babe now and then, but too independent and solitary to raise a child of her own.

"_Tell me then, will they be mortals or immortals?_" Findel could hear the prince's heart break in two at that. "_It is a __**mean **__gamble. Either you will see them die shortly after her, or they will see their mother age and die, before they are ready to let her go_." The prince sighed nervously, obviously unsure of what what to do next. "_If it is her that you choose: bond, and quickly. But if you choose the realm, please, do not take what little time she has away from her; it is precious. And surely another could give her what you cannot_."

"_Why tell me all this?_" asked Legolas. _He is an ingrate, Irony was right about that._

"_I __**love**__ Irony._" The other elf went pale. " _Like a sister."_ he added so the prince would begin to breathe again."_I will not allow her life go to waste._"

(Legolas POV)

Annoyed and lost, Legolas decided it was time for this talk to come to an end. The older ellon had made his point: it was time to choose, and he wanted Legolas to let Irony go. _That _was no longer an option for the prince; there was already too much he wanted to share with the human. However, putting her life in danger was not an option either. He sighed, and began to walk away, his head full of unanswered questions yet _again_.

"_One last thing._" called Glorfindel. Legolas reluctantly stopped to listen to his elder for it was the polite thing to do, but he did not turn around to look at his face. He chose not to turn so that the half Noldo would not see all the doubts written all over his face for the hidden threat in his last sentence still rung inside the Sinda's head like a bell. "_Was she allowed to leave_?"

The queer question caught Legolas's curiosity, making him resign to turn to face the other ellon. "_She has seen how our guard is organized; she knows the castle's defenses too well for my father to take the risk of granting her leave before having heard back from the healer's experiments."_ answered Legolas with monotone voice. The awkward silence that followed his reply, as well as Glorfindel's furrowed brows worried him. "_Is there something I am not aware of? Do you suspect Irony might be a spy?"_

The balrog slayer raised a serious brow. "_I do not believe her a spy, but her insatiable thirst and the way she avoids the sun do not help improve the public opinion of her._" Legolas frowned upon hearing that. It seemed that he was the only one who gave Irony the benefit of the doubt. "_However, what worries me more is the fact that in addition to having Galdor teach her about human realm's current political status, including the ones nearing your borders, she has asked me to teach her self defense._" Glorindel bit his lower lip for a second. "_She may be planning to escape._" he told Legolas.

The prince blinked several times, feeling alarmed. "_Why would she want to leave?_" he asked. During the first few weeks she had spent in Greenwood, it had been obvious that she had only one thought: _leaving_. However, recently, she seemed to enjoy the freshness of the breeze kissing her skin when the wind blew, the smell the woods at night, the comfort of her room during the day...she had even made a friend: Tauriel's dwarf. Him and Irony would be seen 'exploring' the wine cellars and the castle's kitchens quite often.

"_She has everything she needs here._" insisted the prince.

"_No_." Glorfndel shook his head. "_She has __**you**__ here_." he told Legolas. "_And she cares for you deeply, but no one can live of love only." _

"_Do you think she __**loves**__ me?"_

"_I think so, but I will not lie: I know not how humans love."_

* * *

_Just dropping this quickly! _


	26. Who are you to judge?

**Who are you to judge?**

(Irony POV: happening at the same time as the previous chapter)

While everyone was enjoying the party thrown by the king, Irony was studying. She had not been surprised that Galdor had agreed to move their lessons to later hours; the elf didn't like social events, and most social events were set at night. How convenient for him. And how convenient for _her_: she wanted to avoid the sun's warmth, and did not want to see the king. She was afraid to face him because of those blue searching eyes of his. They seemed to be able to see right through her, and that made her uneasy. Once, he had stared at her with his accusing blue eyes for so long once, that she had almost melted. The kind felt something was off with her, she was certain of it.

Irony sighed as she examined the book the Commender had placed in front of her, on the table. There was too much text in it for her to read in only a few hours. Or so the elf thought. She had practised writing and reading by herself, but she would rather the elf think her slower a learner than she truly was. She had already read the whole book. It was about dunedains, and they had already studied dunedains together. She knew all about them from the way the dressed to the the fall of Arnor. She was afraid the Commender had already ran out of materials about humans: the elves – or at least those from Greenwood – had very little interest in other beings than elves. it seemed to Irony that to Sinda and Silvan, watching a flower grow was much more fascinating and pleasant than conversing with a human.

"Can I not learn about elves for once?" she pleaded, furrowing her brows in a way that would make her look pitiful. Galdor would not be sensitive to it, she knew, but one could always try. "I think you have taught me all there was to know about my kind when it comes to history and customs, though most of the customs we have spoken about, and that I have heard of, were badly interpreted."Galdor raised bored brow at her comment. "I am beginning to loose interest in this." she finally admitted pointing at the heavy looking book.

"And what would you have me teach you about elves?" he asked on an almost cynical tone.

"Tell me about your gods." she replied, ignoring the commender's stiffness. Her reply seemed to have taken him aback for once. "The _'balarre'_, they are called?" she asked.

He sat in front of her, looking serious, as always. "Valar." he courteously corrected. "They are not gods per say, but we do consider them as godly beings for their powers are great and from them originates all we live of."

Irony would have laughed at that if she had been sitting in front of anyone else: she couldn't believe that any being, even if magical, could have enough power to create a whole world. "Like the sea?" she asked, hiding her amusement and scepticism.

Galdor nodded. "_Ulmo_ is the valar of the sea."

"The mountains?" she asked raising a brow. But this time her question made the Commender growl and shift on his sit. "_Melkor_ made the mountains, but he..." He seemed annoyed, bothered and pained at the same time. "We best not speak of him for now." he finished. Irony noted not to ask any further question about that 'Mélquor' god. Still she made a mental note to herself to remember to search for his name in the library's books during her free time for the fact that only saying his name had made the most stoic of all elves shiver meat the search would be worth the trouble. Though she still couldn't _read_ sindarin properly, she could now recognize quite a few words of the singing tongue.

"Very well then," she started again, "Who made the trees?"

"_Yavanna _is the fruit giver."

"Are there many more?"

"Yes." he confirmed. "They are 12 more." He paused and stared at her for a few seconds, brows furrowed suspiciously. "You seem truly interested by the _Valar_."

"_I am _truly interested." she insisted. She may have had a lot to complain about when it came to elves, and failed to understand many of the things they said or did, but they fascinated her all the same. They were so similar to humans and yet so different. She had no doubt that the differences in the way of perceiving things between the two species came from the fact that elves were immortal; but she wanted to know how could the same world be understood so differently. "I have heard both the prince and Lord Glorfindel talk about them, but I have never seen anyone pray to them, nor have I seen any monument made in their honour."

Galdor shook his head lightly. "The _Vala_r need not be praised; they are humble beings." he told her. For someone who was talking about 'humble beings' he sounded quite proud. "We respect them and show them our gratitude for what they have given us by honouring, not them, but their creations: we take care of all living things and respect all that is." he affirmed. Irony thought about how elves looked down on both her and Kili. She would have liked to contradict the commander, but she could not: the wood elves might not exactly be friendly, but they did allow them the respect every living beings deserved.

"Your religion includes no sacrifices, does it?" she asked.

Galdor grimaced as disgracefully as an elf could grimace. "Sacrifices?" he blurted out. "No!" he affirmed firmly, his hand closing into a fist. "Only vengeful gods would wish for their subjects to commit such a barbaric act as a sacrifice." He sighed, cooling down. "The only sacrifices we make are those we chose to make for the _Valar_ do not interfere directly with our lives, or only rarely. The sacrifices we make have nothing ceremonial."

Most religions Irony had heard about included sacrifices. And does that did not, included dark magic at some level. She thought nothing of religions. She had been raised to believe in some gods, and had even prayed to them quite often when she was a child. But when none of her prayers had been answered, she had decided that there were no gods, and that she could only rely on herself to make the future happen.

"What do they look like?" She wondered. Were elven god even known to have a physical form? Most of the humans' gods were said to have one. Some were even described as frightening monsters; they were half man half goat, with a horse's sex, a bull's horns, and a fur as red as blood.

"Their true forms are unknown for our eyes are not worthy to fall upon them." he told her. _That's one hell of an elven answer_, she thought. "But when they want to be seen, the appearance they take is elven like..." he seemed to be searching for his words. "only..." he sighed, unable to finish his sentence.

"Do they look- no, _feel,_ like Glorfindel does?" she asked. Galdor seemed taken aback by her answer though he hid his surprise well. Still, Irony noticed it. Ever time he was surprised by something, his lips would part slightly before closing on each other and forming a straight line again.

"No, they do not." he finally said. "The powers they have are by far superiors to the Lord Glorfindel's, but I understand where your misconception comes from." He paused, pushed his long black hair over his right shoulder, and scratched the back of his neck. "It is said that the Lord of the Golden Flower has met some of the _Valar_, and after their meeting, they have graced him with a second life." He paused again. His face had become emotionless, and his eyes doubtful and distant; and expression Irony had never seen on any other beings than elves. "Their touch have changed him. However, only _he_ knows what he has become;_ we_ can only speculate as to what his nature is."

* * *

(Irony POV)

After the lesson, Irony had waited. And involuntarily made Galdor wait along with her. Glorfindel had forgotten about her _again_, she was certain of it. And so had concluded Galdor with annoyance after having waited for the temporary guard to do his job. The commander even told Irony that he would walk her back to her room in her friend's stead, because the said friend was irresponsible despite being as "old as a godtree".

So they walked the corridors in silence, looking only at the poorly lighted path in front of them. The elves needed no more than a few candles to lighten their way at night for their sight was excellent, even during the darkest of nights. It wasn't the case for Irony though. She couldn't see further than a meter away from her, and that made her uncomfortable for if any enemy was waiting for her further ahead, she would not see him until the very last minute. But thankfully, the path they had chosen to walk to her room would soon open on the outside, and the moonlight would enlighten they way.

However, when it did open on the outside, it was to Irony's dismay.

"_Your grace._" Galdor nodded politely to his king. Since the King ignored Irony, Irony decided to ignore him as well. She knew they would not allow her to walk back to her room unaccompanied, so she strode to the nearby balcony in order to be behind the sovereign's back so that she would not have to face his scrutinizing gaze.

"_Commender._" The king nodded back at his subject. "_Did we receive any answer from the dwarves yet, about the forging of new armors_?" he asked.

Without hesitation Galdor spoke, "_They have refused our offer saying that we did not offer enough in compensation of what we asked from them."_

"_Not enough?!" _the King's voice grounded. It made Irony shiver, and caused her to glance in the elves' direction. Galdor seemed utterly unimpressed by the king's sudden change of tone. "_What would they have me give them? My kingdom?!"_he barked._ "I have offered them jewels that shine brighter than their precious cursed arkentone!"_

As Galdor caught her looking their way, Irony awkwardly went back to staring at what stood under the balcony: Kili an Tauriel. The elleth was sitting on the grass, her back against a tree trunk while the dwarf laid down on the ground, and rested his head on her knees. She was braiding his hair. Irony wondered why elves were so obsessed with having pretty hair. Actually, they were obsessed with anything that was pretty, from far or close.

"_Your grace, we are asking them to provide us enough armours made of mithril to arm our __**whole**__ army." _started Galdor again. "_The price of mithiril is...more than we should afford. New golden armours would suffice-"_

"_The right blade can pierce a golden armour. No blade can go through a thin layer of mithril. I will have armours made of mithril."_ cut the Silvan sounding unsatisfied and determined._ "Do you have anything else to report?"_

Irony heard the fabric of Galdors's long tunic move when he shifted his weight from one leg to the other."_They have sent us a sample of the mithril shirts they offer to design for us instead of forging new armours, should we not wish to pay their price for full armours. I have put it in the armoury for the soldiers to try on while fighting."_

"This is ridiculous!" the king yelled in the common tongue so he was angry.

"I agree." answered Irony. " He is slightly more than half her size, and has less than half her grace. And yet, here they are, together." She only realized the words had left her mouth once the sovereign's eyes had set on her, sending a chill down her spine. "Your grace." she blurted out with a shaky voice, as she finally bowed to him.

The king merely raised a brow at her, then looked at the lovers who were seemingly unaware that they were being watched. " Who are you to judge their union?" he spat. His voice had venom in it, and Irony felt poisoned by it.

"I'm not judging anything." she replied, half offended, and half brave. "I was merely just stating a fact." she added as she turned to look at the couple again. " He _is_ shorter than she is. Even when he stands on the tip of his toes, she has to bend down in order to kiss him, what makes a quite ridiculous painting." From the corner of her eyes, she saw the king frown. She wondered if it was because he did not want to agree with her but could not do otherwise. "Still, if they are happy that way, may the lovers love each other and the world let them be." She shrugged.

The king turned to Galdor with an expression Irony had seen many, _many_ times on Legolas's face : puzzlement. If there was one thing she now had no doubts about, it was that King Thranduil was Legolas's father.

"_She does not sound half as stupid as I thought her_." he complained. "_Are you sure teaching her anything at all is safe?"_

The commander nodded assuredly. "_Nothing I teach her will be of any use to her against us_." he affirmed. "_And she still can neither read nor pronounce the words of our tongue."_

"_Good_." replied the sovereign without sounding satisfied at all. He glanced at Irony again, as she stared at them with a blank expression on her face. "_She looks skinnier than when she arrived. And paler, almost greyish. Is she ill?"_ There was no concern in his voice, nor was there any showing on the delicate features of his delicate face.

"_I know nothing of humans physical conditions_." answered Galdor shrugging. He then looked at Irony up and down seemingly bored. "_Should I have her sent to the healers?"_

The king seem to hesitate for second. "_So long as she does not express any need for assistance,_"he started again, "_there is no need to do so._" He paused. "_Have the healers reported to you as to why she did not die from the black venom?"_

"_Not yet. But they should be able to tell us if all humans are immunized against it, or if she is the only one who can survive it soon enough; the elf they have sent to gather samples from other humans should be back in a few weeks. An escort will find him at the border so that he may arrive here safely." _

Irony had turned to stare at Tauriel and kili again. Only this time, she didn't see them although she stared right in their direction; she was to busy listening to what the commander and the king were saying.

_Elves are idiots,_she thought, _Because I cannot read a language, nor pronounce it properly does not mean that I cannot understand most of it. Just how long did they think it would take me to learn their sindarin? It's not like I 've got anything else to do in my free time..._

* * *

**A/N:**

The Valar more or less created middle earth ; Eru basically showed them that it could exist and created an earth and the valar embellished it all together while Melkor constantly tried to destroy what they were building. When Manwe and the others made plains, Melkor was like "Hell no, bitches." and turned them into mountains X)

Also I don't known if Glorfindel actually met the Valar, but I am certain they are the ones who graced him with a second life.

**Charlottees;** I am so glad there are no (not many) grammar and spell mistakes x))) I keep on checking every single word to make sure I am not missing a letter or something! Also, I wish I could write more about how are things for humans and about their culture to give the whole story an even more realistic dimension but so far I haven't gotten the occasion :/ I am also excited to see how every one will react to the ending of the story (I did not write everything yet but I know exactly where I am going 8) )

**ez: **_Aww,_ I'm sorry you had a crappy day, and I am really glad reading the fic made you feel better! I've quit my internship cause it was shit so I'll have more free time starting at the end of week so you can expect quicker updates 8D And the few next ones will be a bit more fluffy and amusing than the last one so if you need any cheering up in the next few weeks, the fic should provide it to you 3

**Hobbitpony1:**Glorfindel and Irony would have made a great couple 8) but I like to torture the characters I write about, so poor Glorfindel will end up with someone who will make him work for it than harder than Irony ever could have made him work. But that'll happen in the other fic (And the Rain fell down) which I have yet to update

Thank you all for your lovely comments 3 they truly put a smile on my face! And special thanks again to NightlyRowenTree and komakipureblood for keeping up with the story and for your support. 'love you all guys 3


	27. Go jump from Mount Doom

**Go jump from mount doom**

(Thranduil POV: still during the night if the party)

Something felt off. Even more off than the affection Tauriel was bearing to the dwarf and showing so bluntly, in public, on a night during which every one could see them. No, what bothered Thranduil so came from the human standing not so far from him and Galdor. He could only see her from the corner of his eyes, but a simple glance at her had been enough to notice that her face was blank. It was only detail, and perhaps an insignificant one, but the king would rather play a safe game than a dangerous one.

"" _Have the mithril shirt moved to my quarters._"" he ordered the captain, in Quenya. The sudden change of language caused the dark haired elf to frown a little bit. The king glanced at the mortal, her blank expression had been chased away by the furrowing of her brows, what drove the sovereign to one conclusion: she had been listening.

"" _Quenya?"" _began the commender,_ ""Even if she had been listening to our conversation, she could not have understood more than bits of it. Bits that are meaningless when taken out of their context._"he added. The sovereign could not argue with that, and did not. ""_Besides, what use would she have of a mithril shirt? There are no blades pointed in her direction now, and there will be none so long as we do not know for sure that she is a foe._""

""_In the case it is confirmed that she is an ally of the enemy, I do not want her running around in my realm with a better protection than the one my soldiers have. An easy target will cause less trouble than a difficult one.""_

On that the king the king left stomping noiselessly. As he walked away, he heard the commander and the human's steps fading in the opposite direction.

* * *

(Irony POV)

_The king knows_, was all Irony's brain repeated to her while Galdor walked her back to her room. If he did not know that she could understand sindarin, why would he have changed language to speak one she only knew one words of:_ laurenfindil_, which was Glorfindel's _epessë_ (nickname), and a few curses that the balrog slayer had so graciously thought her, her favourite one being :_Labo vi Orodruin_ ("Go jump from Mount Doom").

_Time is running out_, she told herself when she bowed to Galdor before he left her in front of her door, _I need to find a way out of this maze of a castle. _She closed the door behind her.

And as soon as it was closed, hands where cupping her cheeks, gently lifting her head up. "You won't leave, will you?" asked Legolas, sounding both desperate and sad. She glanced at her bed; by the way the sheets were crumpled, the elf had been waiting for her restlessly laying for quite some time.

Without giving away what her thoughts were, Irony put her hands on top of the elf's and spoke, raising both brows; "Am I allowed to?"

"No." he answered shrugging, as he let go of her cheeks to take her hands in his and kiss them both. "Would you if you could?"

Wanting to be as honest as she could be without revealing her plan, Irony did not hesitate to answer to his question. "A cage remains a cage, even when shaped like a castle." she told him, and hurt, he looked away, as he let go of her hands. "But when I leave, you could come with me." she told him, hopeful, trying to make him look at her again by softly making him turn his head towards hers with a hand. But his eyes refused to meet hers.

When the prince smiled sadly, and did not reply, Irony understood that his silence and awkwardness meant a cold "no." And so, broken hearted, she let go of him as she swallowed bitterness. She was not leaving yet, and she was truly excited at the prospect of being free again, but she had the fact that Legolas would be the cost of her freedom was hitting her hard now. "Why offer to court me 'properly', if everything we share now will come to end ?" she asked him, rather coldly, as she left his side to sit on her bed. She bent and began to take her left shoe off. Nothing felt as good as freeing one's feet after a long day.

She saw the prince bite his lower lip and furrow his brows angrily and expected him to lash back at her. Instead, the muscles of face relaxed, and he sighed. He then came to kneel in front of her, and kissed her hands again. "It seems that we shall not come to an agreement tonight." he whispered, before delicately taking her right shoe off her foot, and placing it near the left one. Irony felt her heart sink under the kindest of his touch. "I suggest that we quit talking for the rest of the night." he said before grinning like child who have won a fight, and reducing the space between their faces.

Irony turned her face to the side at the last second so that his lips would meet with her cheek instead of her lips. "I thought we were to stand at a safe distance from one another because of the courting." she told him, smirking back. Even better than being freed from one's shoes, there was using one's words against themselves.

The elf frowned. "I remember saying those words, but I am afraid I will cannot hold to them." he told her before quickly stealing a kiss from her lips. "The courting still stands, and I shall not dishonour you, but nothing will stop me from holding you close," he told her while, still kneeling, he spread her legs apart to come closer, and wrap an arm around her waist. "Nor from kissing you here," he kissed her forehead."Here," He kissed her nose, where it was crooked, "Here," he pressed his lips against hers, and claimed her mouth with his tongue for a brief moment before breaking the contact. "Here, as well," He kissed the junction of her neck and shoulder, and it sent a good chill down Irony's spine, "And here-" he kissed her right breast through her dress, "And the other one as well, so that it won't be jealous," he said. And he deposed another soft kiss on her other breast while she chuckled. "Oh, and here," He kissed her belly.

Then he wrapped a hand around her feet and lifted it up to his mouth. "I would also kiss your ankle," he told her before doing so. "And your knee." His hand slowly slid from her ankle to her knee, pulling her dress up at the same time, until her knee was uncovered, and he could kiss it. "I would also kiss you here, and here," he said as he pulled her dress up a little more, before kissing her inner thighs.

By now, Irony's skin was all prickly, and warm. If he stopped now, she would grab him by the collar, throw him on the bed, and oh no, not even all of his 14 gods would be able to save him from her.

When he pushed her back so she would be laying, then pulled all of her dress' layers up her hips, Irony inhaled sharply and her toes curled in anticipation of what he was going to do next.

He parted her legs further apart.

"And, I would have a taste of you." he said on this masculine tone men used only when whispering dirty things in their lover's ears.

Then his thumbs were parting her lips, his mouth closing around her pink flesh, and his tongue playfully nibbling at her nub.

Pulling her legs over his shoulders, Legolas begun to suck on her nub, softly at first, then more fervently. And- Oh.

_Oh!_

Irony could feel tension build inside of her as she grew wetter. The fingers of her left hand had closed into a fist around the sheets of her bed, and those of her right hand were lost in the gold of the of prince's hair. Before she came, she bit her lips so that she would not moan too loudly.

When the mouth covering her sex drew back, she was still panting, trying to cool down from the release so generously given; her nub still felt hot and sensitive. But the elf was merciless; without granting her any rest, his lips curled around her nub again, and sucked on it until, breathless, she came a second time.

Once satisfied, the fair creature kissed her inner thigh, then removed himself from under her legs, to lay beside her. He pushed the hair that covered her face behind her ears.

"No man had ever kissed me there before." she breathed out. And it was true; she had laid with many men, but their interest in her most private part was always limited to what pleasure they could get from it, and not to what pleasure she could feel.

The elf pulled her in a tight embrace. "And none other than me ever will." he replied rather authoritatively. "You see, I intend on keeping you all for myself." he said as his fingers wrapped around her ears, and lips stole a kiss from hers.

Irony smiled. She wrapped her fingers around his ears as well, and rubbed her thumbs against their tip. The elf closed his eyes, enjoying the friction.

Irony felt his already hard member grow even harder against her thigh. So she slid down his torso, and lower still, until- Legolas'hands grabbed her adventurous one. "Please, do not."he pleaded, looking overly serious. Irony was slightly confused...she wanted to pleasure him, why would he stop her from doing so? "I trust myself with you only to a certain point. If you begin to t-touch me- I will-... the bond- and this is all- We have already done more than we should have."he blurted out, his cheeks turning pink.

Irony began to laugh. The elf had tasted her a few minutes ago, and yet, he still stuttered and blushed when it came to talking about sex."Oh, elf," she started, still laughing. "What am I going to do with you?!" she laughed harder.

Shy and annoyed, the Sinda burrowed his face in her chest, the way he often did when he visited her in her room and they laid together for a while."Hold me for the rest of the night, I guess." he murmured from between her breasts. "And tell me how much you have missed me on this day." he added holding her tighter against him.

* * *

**A/N**: Omg, writing sensual scenes is so hard

And I love how only an elf could come up with "Go jump from Mount Doom" as an insult. I laughed so hard when I found that sentence on the internet (the elvish sentence may be grevilsh and real tolkien elvish by the way, I am not sure).


	28. Foxes, rabbits, tunnels and ghosts

**Foxes, rabbits, tunnels and ghosts  
**

_(Legolas POV)_

Despite his last talk with Glorfindel, the prince felt incredibly calm regarding his future with Irony. Whatever would happen would be positive, he was sure. How could anything go wrong when even the balrog slayer could not slip between them to break them apart? No, everything would be alright, and every question asked would be answered when the time for answering would come. For now, there was no place for worries nor doubts: everything was perfect. He was home, and since Irony's guard already knew of their relationship, he could sneak into her rooms more easily than before, and as the Noldo wanted to protect the human from the elven king, he would provide the prince and the woman an alibi if ever needed. Everything was just fine.

However, he had to admit that sometimes, rarely, he thought about the talk he had had in the stairs with the balrog slayer days ago, and that made him bitter. "I love her like a sister" he had told Legolas. Yet, all that rang inside the Sinda's head was 'I love her'. He was well aware that the sentence had not ended there, but sometimes, he observed the taller elf laugh with the human and could not help but wonder if he had not imagined the last part of the sentence.

Still, no matter how much he was wary of the ancient elf, he trusted Irony. Trusting her was probably one of the hardest things he had come to do. Irony kept secrets, many of them, he knew, and she did not share them all with him, nor did she intended on doing so it seemed. But she loved him. He knew because she had pressed her lips against his ear and murmured the words to him while holding his hand. And so he had decided that he could trust her despite all she hid, and all she would not say. And despite the fact that the balrog slayer kept reminding him that she could be planning an escape...even if she had been planning an escape some time ago, Legolas was convinced that she wasn't planning on leaving any more. Now, she wanted to stay, even if just to stay with him.

If she did not intend on staying, then she would not have agreed to marry him. _Well_, she had not agreed to be wed to him the way humans wed, but, since she had accepted to be courted by him, one could only assume that she would agree to bond with him after the courting. But maybe he should explain to her what the courting was about today, before going through yet another step of it, and braid her hair before she would braid his unknowing how big of a step that would be.

Before the night had completely fallen, the prince cracked open the human's door slowly, in order not to wake Irony, in case she was still sleeping. He thought it strange that she had decided to change her internal clock to sleep during the day and live during the night, but since her allergies to the sun were getting worse, he saw no reason to oppose her choice; her skin reddened at as soon as the sunlight cast itself upon it, causing red spots to appear on it.

"How did you sneak in when I my door is so well guarded?" mumbled the foxy woman as she stretched in her bed, grimacing a little. Waking up seemed to be somehow painful for humans. Legolas assumed it was because they slept with their eyes closed, and were unconscious of their environment while they did so. It seemed to him that mortals died every night and came back to life every morning. Which was why when Irony fell asleep in his company, he checked her breathing every now and then. Once, not so long ago, shortly after he had saved her from the villagers, afraid that she was dying, he had shook her hard to wake her, what had caused her left foot to end on his face with enough strength to make his nose bleed. It had also earned him a good scold. Since then, he knew better than to wake a sleeping human.

"Glofindel barely ever stands guard in front of your door, you know." he told her as he sat on the side of her bed. The skin under her eyes was almost blue, and her lids seemed like they were carrying the world on it; she looked exhausted. He wondered why, if she had slept, she seemed to be in need of more rest than before. "And it is for the best; him staying out there," he showed her the door with his chin, "_All _night whilst you sleep would give me nightmares."he joked. It was only partially a joke.

"You don't even _sleep_," she retorted with a croaky voice as she sat, smirking. "How would you have nightmares?"

The prince chuckled. "Elves do sleep, and dream." he assured her amused. "We only do so differently than humans do. May I?" he asked as he took her hand in his.

"Why do you keep on asking if you can kiss my hand instead of doing it, elf?" she growled, wrinkling her nose. He felt his smile spread wide across his face. He had known asking her permission would annoy her a little; she didn't like things to repeat themselves, and he asked her that same question everyday. "You already know my answer."

He kissed her hand kindly. "I simply enjoy hearing that your answer has not changed; it reminds me that we have changed."he told her. His lips aimed for hers, but instead, they met the palm of her hand. He frowned, but did not insist. She liked to be left alone sometimes, to have her own space, and he had decided to respect that.

"And _how_ exactly have we changed?" she asked as she stretched. She then left the bed and went to the table standing against the wall, across the room, to have a glass water. "Your ears are still pointy," she added, before having another glass of water. "And I my mouth still speaks when it feels like it." she finished. Then she finished the carafe of water without bothering to pour its content into the glass first. She _was_ suspiciously thirsty, thought the prince remembering what Glorfindel had said. But then humans needed water a lot more than elves did, so maybe that was normal.

"And, _oh_, how I wish I could stop it from making any noise sometimes." he threw back at her. He laid back in her bed, while she looked through her clothes. "I used to see you as threat and a-..."he refrained from finishing this sentence, remembering the day he had called her a liar, and told her she deserved to be treated like a criminal. His heart had skipped a bit after she had told him part of all the things she had been through. He had not known then, that being so unlucky was possible. And though she seemed to think that all her misadventures were 'things that happened', as she so carelessly called them, he had wondered if she realized that no elf would have survived all of it. If she had been elven, she would have died after having been forcefully wed; fair creatures died of horror and despair before one could force love upon them.

"Could 'liar' possibly be the word you are looking for?" she completed, as she turned to look at him. She sounded unconcerned, as always.

Legolas stared at his fingers as they nervously tapped tapped on the mattress. "You did lie to me. And many times so." he told her. "However, I was about to say 'a controlling silly girl unable of empathizing'." he lied. It was not what he had wanted to say, but it _was_ what he used to think of her. "You seemed to lack 'humaness', if I may say so." he added hesitantly. He was not sure how the world he was looking for translated in the common tongue. " Now, I know you are a clever young woman." he told her as he moved to sit. "Braver that most warriors I know."

The woman exploded in laughters. "Brave?" she repeated, struggling to breathe so she was laughing. " Clever, I can believe you mean, but brave? I run away from danger faster than a dwarf from a dragon." She paused to laugh again. Legolas furrowed his brows in discontentment. But she seemed not to have noticed. Maybe she had noticed but had decided to ignore it to keep on laughing. "You are doing courting wrong, my little elf." she told him before kissing his forehead. If he had not quickly wrapped his arms around her, she would have left his side again to go back to her clothes.

"If I am _your_ elf, does that make you_ my_ human?" he asked as he buried his face in the satin of her sleeping gown to take her scent. But she almost immediately pulled out of the embrace, to walk back to her clothes. He wondered if she realized how distant she was being. But if he was to tell her that, _again_, she would answer that he was too needy once more, and would call him a spoiled brat. He sighed and slouching and pouting he looked at her as she began to wash her face with the water from a recipient laying on her table, not so far from the empty glass, and empty carafe.  
"Do not be disrespectful now." she told him sounding serious. But he knew her well enough now to know that she was only pretending. " Humans are not objects: you can't possess one of us." she added before sticking her tongue out at him.

He laughed a little. "See, you _are _brave. I cannot name one other person in this realm who would stick their tongue out at me."

"I can name two." she replied. " Kili and Findel."she mused._ Glofindel again, _thought the prince feeling himself grow a little angry."They are brave: Kili went to help Tauriel knowing he might die if he did so, and Findel killed a balrog."

"He fell off a cliff with a balrog." he corrected, sounding colder than he had wanted to sound. "It is not something people should have made songs about." he spoke in the beard he didn't have. "_You_ are brave. You befriended _yrsh _(orcs), tricked elves, faced men who wanted you harm in order to save the very person who had almost delivered you to them unknowing that I would not cease the opportunity to betray you again."

"You make it sound more like I have lost my mind." was her sole answer.

Legolas stood to walk to her and kiss the tip of her rounded ear. "I hear it is what love does to people: it makes them loose reason." he murmured to her. He felt her shiver against him, and it made him want to make her nightgown slip off her body so he could touch her and kiss her pink flesh again, but he didn't because he would have to leave soon.

"People are wrong," she started on that moralizing tone of hers she used so often when she was right and knew she was. "Love doesn't not make you lose your mind; it makes you careless. And carelessness is what leads to making stupid mistakes." she said. She turned to face him and looked at how he was dressed. He had used brown leather boots, beige leggings and an ample tunic the colour of gold with undone laces on the front. She fixed the laces with care as she spoke. "I think we have proved that the day of the games." She glanced at his face. "You know, not locking the doors..."

"About carelessness," he started, "Do not expect the lord of the Golden Flower to come back with us tomorrow night."

Irony raised a curious brow. Her lips curled lightly on both sides when she squinted her eyes in suspicion. "Why?"

"Like you said, love makes people _careless_." he said, resting his hands on her hips to bring her close. "Something tells me that I might loose an arrow or two, and I am afraid he may run into them."

The woman furrowed a brow and raised the other high before bursting out in laughters again. "What if _he _was to loose an arrow and you ran into it?" she asked, sounding amused.

Legolas shrugged. "He won the game proving that he never missed, so that would be quite suspicious, wouldn't it be?" he answered grinning. Irony laughed some more, and probably because she knew he would leave any second to go hunt spiders, again, she posed her lips upon his and kissed him warmly for a short time.

He must have been rougher than he had wanted to be for when she pulled out of the kiss, her lower lip was bruised, but she didn't seem to mind.

"You best come back in one whole _living_ piece." she threatened, wrinkling her nose the way he like so very much, as she turned towards the table. She opened a box he had given her to put her jewels in, but she had filled it with pieces of paper, ink and feathers to train at writing and reading during her lost hours. "Before you leave, could you write this for me?" she asked putting a yellow piece of paper in his hands, " It is to help me remember all of the alphabet's letters. See, they are all in this one little sentence." she said pointing at a sentence she, or maybe Galdor, had underlined for her.

He glanced at the paper without reading what was written on it. "Why don't you write it yourself? It would benefit you more than if I do it in your stead." he pointed out. Galdor had said that she was a fast learner at first, but then her learning speed had slowed down considerably: she knew all of the letters of the common tongue but sometimes she mistook one for another or forgot how to read them. Just like Galdor, Legolas guessed it was because humans were slower at learning than elves.

Irony shrugged. "I can read your writing more easily than mine." she told him without looking at him in the eyes. " My handwriting is still shaky."

Legolas smiled at her and nodded. Then he stared at the paper; a child's story was written on it."The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog." he read the underlined sentence out loud, raising both brows. "You are the fox," he told her, " Am I the lazy dog?" he asked frowning a little.

Irony puffed. "You are closer to being a rabbit." she offered, smirking.

Legolas' frown deepened. "A rabbit? " he repeated. "A small, defenceless grass eater? Have I told you that I am the second best fighter of the realm?" He cocked his head to the side.

"You may be," she started, her smirk growing dangerously. " But your skin is soft like a rabbit's" she said caressing his right cheek with the back of her hand, "And you eat no more meat that rabbits do." she added on a mocking tone. The prince rolled his eyes before assailing her lips again.

* * *

(Irony POV)

"Shouldn't you be gone hunting?" asked Irony, slowly coming out of the warm darkness of her room to meet the darkness and coldness of the corridor. She shivered at the sudden change of temperature. The blond elf standing in front of her seemed to be in great need of entertainment. He was slouching a little, his lids seemed to be heavier than hers and his bright smile was sort of crumpled.

Maybe what he needed was sleep, not entertainment. _He is such a peculiar being, _thought Irony.

"Hunting?" Glorfindel raised a brow. Judging by the expression he was wearing, Irony supposed he had no idea of what she was talking about. What shouldn't have surprised her since he was clueless most of time, but it did take her aback.

"Yes," she insisted frowning at her friend's endless carelessness. "With Galdpor, Legolas and another two hundred soldiers dressed with more weapons than clothes..."she told him. She waited for him to react, but all he did was purse his lips in ignorance. "...to destroy spiders' nets?" she added. The balrog slayer opened his mouth only to close it again without having made a single noise. Then furrowed both brows in a mixture of annoyance and disbelief that caused Irony to shake her head and sight in desperation.

"Was the departure today?" he asked her without even pretending to care.

Irony sighed again and face-palmed herself before laughing a little at her friends' disorientation. "This very morning." she informed him. He pursed his lips with more insistence, deepened his frown, then sighed obviously wishing he hadn't forgotten. "I thought elves remembered everything?" she teased, crossing her arms on her chest; leaning against the door.

"I am too old to keep on paying attention to all that happens." he replied. He always had answer to everything this one.

" About two hundred soldiers leaving a castle in a ruckus that could have awakened the dead should have caught your attention." she threw back at him, amused. " What were you doing to not have noticed?" Surely he must have a good excuse.

"I was helping some parents to find their child. He had disappeared." He shrugged, giving her a lazy smile.

"You are hopelessly good." she complained. "If I believed in gods, I'd pray them for you; I'd ask them to help you become less manipulable." she affirmed. If she had believed in gods, she would have prayed them for her thirst and hunger to stop. Then she'd have prayed them for wealth, and a house far from all living things with thoughts. Then maybe, if she found the time, she'd have prayed them for Glorfindel. Legolas didn't need any praying though; the gods seemed to love him enough as it was. Besides, she wouldn't have him change a thing about himself; on one hand she loved how naive he could be, and on the other she felt safe knowing he could turn into a killing machine. _Ironic_.

Glorfindel puffed as an answer. "Did you find him?" she asked her friend.

"Who?"

He couldn't have already forgotten, could he? "The efling!" she exclaimed annoyed. She began to suspect that something was wrong with him. Well, _wronger_ than usual. But what was it? She couldn't tell. Because of the queer and distant way he observed her, Irony wondered if he would ask questions about her health again. About why her skin was so pale. About why she was now so thin despite the fact that she ate more than her weight. He asked too many questions to her liking, and he often made her feel like a foul being only by standing near her; he was too.._pure_. Still, somehow she knew that Glorfindel would never hurt her. He was too sweet, and kind, and loving and so quick to get attached to people. It was no wonder why he had rushed to his death in Gondolin, _I bet he did not even think about going to fight the beast off, he just went and died with it._

"Oh, yes," he started when he seemed to have suddenly remembered what he had been doing when the night had begun to fall. " We found him. He had gotten lost while playing Goblins and Dwarves in the storeroom near the Great Hall. Him and his friends found an entry to the old tunnels there, and in the excitation of the game decided to play in it." he explained.

"Unless the tunnels are crumbling down like bitten biscuits I don't see what's wrong with them playing there."

"No part of this castle will ever fall." Glorfindel told her sounding as though it was a fact. He said things on that assured tone sometimes, and it always made Irony wonder if the Noldo had visions of future, or if he was only convinced by what he wanted to believe. "The problem is that those tunnels were designed as an escape door, in case of invasion, that can only be used by a person knowing the way out. Oropher, King Thranduil's father, loved games, you see, and so these tunnels are a gigantic maze. Many have ventured there unknowing the way and were never seen again."

"Maybe they were never found because they had found the way out and fled the castle." she argued.

Glorfindel shrugged. "It is said that their souls still live in those tunnels, and are searching for the light. The low elves living in those woods believe the knocking and step noises that can sometimes be heard are those of the lost elves."

Irony felt a chill creep up her spine, causing her to shiver. "I thought all elven souls went to the Halls of Mandos?"

"Mandos calls all, but only those he deems worthy find the way to his Halls. And not all answer to Mandos' call when called upon."

"Thank you very much for this blurry elven answer, my lord of confusing." she answered, bowing sarcastically low to the Noldo. "I am starting to believe that elves are incredibly _undecided_ beings. Your answers either equals 'maybe' or 'yes' and 'no' at the same time."

* * *

**A/N: **

I am not sure that it is clear enough but the Legolas/Irony relationship, despite being strong is lived differently by both characters. Like Leggy think Irony is cold because she is not all about hugs and kisses all the time, and she thinks he is too needy because he asks for a lot of affection and she is just not used to this kind of behaviour. But they just make it work anyway 8D

Also omg! thanks for all the lovely comments! 3 It's very encouraging, especially since the fic has about only 5/6 chapters left. Crazy stuff will happen, and all Irony has been doing in the past few chapters will make sense soon. Anyway, I can't say more than that


	29. Catching the eye

**Catching the eye**

(Findel POV)

If he hadn't noticed the prince, the Commander and their soldiers leave, Glorfindel could not ignore their return; they had come back carrying two dead spiders. He wondered if they had only brought back two carcasses because the two monsters were all they were able to kill or because they needn't more than this number to study the creatures and their poison. _Probably a little bit of both_, thought the balrog slayer laughing by himself.

But he did not laugh for long for the human, standing near him, hit his chest with a violence only females showed so unexpectedly. "If they brought only two back it's because they probably tried to bring them back alive, but had to kill them in order to be able to bring anything back at all. Those things are gigantic." she growled.

It was still a wonder to Glorfindel how the woman guessed this sort of things. She had probably made a lot of money when she had pretended to be clairvoyant long ago; even without pretending, she was rather convincing in the role of someone with sight. Still, if she had truly had any sort of sight, Glorfindel would have felt it. Somehow, he could feel this sort of things.

"How would you know that?" he asked her.

She shrugged. "Use your eyes," she started looking awfully serious. "Look at how many are wounded; not as many as they would be if they had truly spent all of their time fighting." She pointed at a pair of golden soldiers carrying what seemed to be a net made of thick strings. The same type of net elves used during excursion to set traps. Everything suddenly seemed obvious. "They simply ambushed the spiders." she concluded.

"Legolas explained all this to you before leaving, didn't he?" he concluded.

Irony burst out in laughters. "Indeed." she said. "But you have to admit that I was convincing." she insisted. She had been convincing; he had almost fallen for it. Then he had remembered that Legolas confided absolutely everything to Irony. It was a 'proof of trust', the prince had explained, but Glorfindel understood it was because by sharing everything with the human, the Sinda hoped the human would do the same with him. He could not say if that ruse was working, but he doubted it did. "Come, let's go see the spiders from close." she said before running out of his reach so that he would not be able to prevent her from doing so.

When they neared one of the small kitchens, they found that the corridor was more crowded than it should have been. Golden soldiers, and servants were clinging to one another, trying to break through the mass of armours and flesh to reach the kitchen's entrance, and yet, none of the agitated elves tried to enter it. Glorfindel noticed that the maids' skin was prickly, but if it was from excitement or fear, he could not tell: they all shivered in what seemed to be disgust, then gasped with enthusiasm.

When he looked towards Irony, on his right, she was nowhere to be seen. He sighed: he should have expected it. If health and reason seemed to escape her recently, curiosity was certainly not failing her. Pushing and pulling as gently as he could, Glorfindel made his way through crowd to find his friend at the front with crossed arms, looking both amused and disappointed by the spectacle.

Galdor, Legolas, a cook and a soldier were going and coming, shouting, and throwing objects at an eight legged creature that shrieking, charged, tried to bite or fled to another corner of the room thanks to sticky white strings, every time it was hit. It was the size of an overfed cat, just as repulsive as its bigger sized cousins, and judging by the care with which the elves approached it, it must have been just as venomous. _How did it arrive in the kitchen? _Was all Glorfindel wondered.

"They should cut it in half." Irony suggested.

"You said yourself that they wanted to study a live one." he reminded her. She frowned and her nose wrinkled a little.

"Why don't you help?" she asked on a sharper tone. She was never too pleased when someone pointed out the obvious to her. " Aren't you a knight or something? Or, are you scared?" she mocked grinning annoyingly.

"I'm a Lord and a warrior, not a...tiny flour covered spider crusher." he answered, grinning back. "Why don't _you_ help them if you think those valiant fighters need a hand." For a second the human looked indignant, then her expression changed to one of determination, causing the balrog slayer to regret his words. "I meant it not-"

"Too late." she cut, leaving his side to head to shelf full of jars. She stared at them for a long time and with more calm than she should have had at the moment, while on the other corner of the room the rather peculiar fight kept on going. No one paid her any mind; they hadn't even noticed she had stepped inside of the kitchen.

Irony emptied the biggest jar she found, and went to the ice-house, that was only a door away, to come back to the kitchen having filled half of the jar with ice cubes. She put it on the counter top and went back to the shelf again. When she began to pick jars up and smell the spices and herbs they contained, Glorfindel decided not to interfere with whatever she was doing; curiosity was contagious it seemed. Twice she plunged her hands in some of the jars, pulling out a hand full of whatever they contained, before rubbing her hands together then covering up to her elbows with it. The mixture made her cough a few times.

"Move out!" she yelled, and finally every eyes were on her. Legolas' were none too happy nor reassured, however he did not say a word. He wouldn't dare in front of so many people, and especially not in front of _Galdor_. "I'll catch it." added Irony, convinced by what she was saying.

Galdor gave the prince a strange look, to which Legolas answered by a shy shake of the head after having furrowed his brows. Then Galdor nodded.

"My lady," started Legolas, sounding as courteous as he was with every one else. "Contact with the poison may not have endangered your life, but a bite from it might have a different outcome..."

"It might," she conceded, looking at the commander and not at the prince. It seemed that she knew better that even though the words had come out of the Sinda's mouth, they belonged to the Commander. And Galdor liked his prisoners alive; dead spies and enemies could neither serve nor say as much as live ones. "Will a bite hurt? Most definitely. But will it kill me? We don't know that." she said shrugging. " However we _do_ know that whatever it can do to me, will have worse effects on any one of you, elves." she pointed out. No one had forgotten about how she had saved Irdhen's life by sucking black poison out of his veins and tasting blood without even coughing from the poison. Or so Glorfindel was told. And he was glad that he had not witnessed the scene: the simple thought of it was nauseating enough. "So, will you let me do it, or will you risk your life, and those of your subjects, your grace?" she asked, turning to Legolas this time.

Anger seemed to build inside of prince's body, but he contained it well enough. Jaw clenched and hands closed into fists, he took a stoic step to the side, freeing the way to the spider to Irony. She walked passed him head high. Suddenly she slowed her steps, and brought a hand close to her mouth even more slowly. She blew on it, and particles from the mix of powder that covered her arms fled to the spider. The creature's mandible moved threateningly, but instead of attacking, it turned to walk away, as if repulsed by the human. Of course as soon as it had its back turned to Irony, she ceased it with both hands, fingers intertwined with the spider's ugly legs. It shrieked, and shrieked again on a higher pitched tone that caused all the elves to stuff their ears with a finger. Only the human did not mind the sound so much. She only squinted her eyes because displeased, then shook the little monster hard, until it stopped making any noise. As she walked past the room to get to the jar, it kept wiggling, trying to get out of her grip.

She force it inside of the ice filled jar, and out her hands to prevent it from coming out of the jar. The spider began to shriek again, readied itself to attack, launched forth but never actually touched the human. It seemed unwilling to engage contact with her flesh. Surprisingly enough Irony did not look scared; she was confident in that the arachnid would not bite her. However, for some reason her arms shook. _Strange_, thought the balrog slayer. And so every one must have thought for the room was uncomfortably silent, and eyes incredibly accusing.

Glorfindel found the jar's lid near by the shelf on which Irony had taken it, and gave it to her so that she might close it properly. The human then gave the jar to the prince, a sufficient smirk on her face, going from ear to another. Reluctantly, the Sinda took it. He stared at the spider for a second, then grimaced. "What am I to do with it?"

"Wait for it stops moving." Irony told him. "It shouldn't be long before it freezes."

"We don't mean for it to die." intruded Galdor.

"Then once it stops moving, quickly take it out of the jar." she said. "It won't wake for a minute or two, what will leave you enough time to cut its mandibles so it won't be able to bite. And it's dart, though it might be too young to use it."

There was a minute of silence during Galdor seemed to have trouble refraining himself from arresting the human right there and then.

"Why didn't it attack you?" Glorfindel finally asked to break the ice. The question had been on everyone's lips.

"Seems like it doesn't crave for human flesh." was all Irony offered. A poor argument."

* * *

**A/N:**

komakipureblood: I can't tell you why she is hungry and what she is craving for, that would spoild the story :p but you'll have the answer soon!

For the rest... omg omg omg, writing the few next chapters is so stressing lots of things will happen...not only happy things unfortunately but enough said! Hang one people, hang in there!


	30. A repellent for certitude

**A repellent for certitude**

(Legolas POV)

As he walked towards the healers halls, Legolas had to focus not to wretch. The simple view of the spider inside the jar he was carrying unsettled his inside. The..._thing_ had disgusting hairy legs and and protruding eyes staring at nothing but darkness. He fastened his steps remembering that the creature was slowing dying when he was supposed to keep it alive.

When they saw the jar, the healers all grimaced and exchanged nervous glanced at each other. Of course, none of them wanted to have to touch the spider. But someone would have to do it. Legolas regretted not having brought Irony with him. If she had been there the matter would have been settled in a few seconds: the woman would have taken it with her bare hands again, and sedated it without a single complaint. But he had not brought her with him and had had to wait another ten minutes for a healer to decide herself to do the job. The prince was not surprised that it was a female who had found the courage to do the job; females tended not to be as sensitive as male he found. It was probably because they were bound to bearing children and giving birth to one someday. Giving birth sounded like a terribly disturbing business he was glad he would never have to undergo. Still, he wanted to be there the day his wife would give birth to his child. He would hold her hand and would try to soothe her when the moment would come. Well, that was only what he hoped would happen. His father had hoped the same thing, however, what had happened was that he was so panicked his wife had to soothe him all the while pushing Legolas out into the world.

"_Your grace_," a healer he knew more than well called, tearing the prince out of his thoughts. "_If, like your father, Galdor and the Lord Glorfindel you have come here to inquire about the human's blood analysis, they are not ready yet,_" Legolas opened his mouth to speak, but the older elleth kept going without giving him the time to justify his presence in the healing quarters, "_However they will be ready later this day, and,_ yes,_ we are going as fast as we can. But we know very little about humans so you must understand that it will take quite a few more hours for us to guarantee the result of our experiments._"

"_I had come to deliver the living spider for the study of its poison._"said the prince once he was given the chance to speak. In truth, the fact that blood analysis where being run to determine whether or not Irony was a corrupted creature had completely escaped his mind. She represented no danger to him.

The healer raised both of her brows. "_Oh!_" she exclaimed. "_It seems the son is more patient that the father._" she told herself. She rubbed Legolas's arm in a motherly fashion. "_You are like your mother aren't you? It is a real wonder how a sunbeam like her fell for the grinch your father is." _She rolled her eyes when he was about to answer._ "Yes, yes, he is the king, I know. And a good king even. And a caring father also, but a grinch nonetheless."_ she insisted."_He is never satisfied with what he has and is suspicious of everything that breathe. My poor boy..." she sighed, "Keep him in line will you? And do not fall under the weight of his expectations for you. They are over sized, too heavy for one little skinny thing like you._" She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand, what made him fell uncomfortable, but he tried not to show it for she was an old family friend. "_And you are young too. So young..._" She smiled sadly and sighed. "_Now, elfling, go and live your life."_she gave him a little push on the shoulder._ "Make sure that I don't see you any time soon."_ she scolded him. It confused him. "_Not that I don't like you little prince. It's just that these are the healing halls; generally when we see people arrive here, it is never for a happy matter_. _Now,_ go!" she yelled.

So he turned to go, wondering what had happened in the healing quarters for the usually happy and energetic elleth to feel so sad. He did not have to wonder for long to have an answer. He understood almost instantly what was happening when he saw the elleth's younger brother. He was not supposed to be here. Not in the healers halls. Not in the castle. Not even in the realm. He had left, for a human. They had joined, six or eight years ago.

Orphen looked like what Legolas imaged death would look like if it had a face. He was so pale that most of his veins where visible. He seemed to have difficulties breathing; his chest barely went up when he breathed in. The most disturbing was that he stared into nothing; emptiness, as though he was not even there.

The prince stopped the first healer that walked by. "_Will he live?_" he asked. Orphen and his sister had been good friends of his mother. They had played with him when he had been a child. It hurt to see him suffer like this.

"_I am sorry,_" said the ellon sounding truly sorry, " _Nothing can heal someone who doesn't want to be healed._"

"_Why would one choose death over life? What about his family?_" asked the prince confused. Orphen was married, was he not? The last time they had spoken, the ellon had been talking about how excited he was about starting a life with his wife.

The healer shook his his head sadly. " _Your grace, his sweet wife left him for another, a human, like her_." the healer said. The shock made Legolas' heart skip a beat. "_The rumour has it the child Orphen raised along with her was not his but the man's._"

"_Why would someone lie about such a thing?_"

"_I know not, your grace._" the healer shrugged. Lying was not in the habits of elves. It was a useless thing to do for them, for they could tell a lie from the truth, most of the time. Only really good liars could get away with their deeds. And it seemed humans where all extremely good at lying.

"_I don't understand. They have bonded so she sh-_"

"_The bond is our curse, your grace, not the mortals'"_cut the healer,_ "When an elf bind himself to a human, he ties his soul to the human's. The human's soul, however, is not tied to the elf's."_he explained._"I have no doubt that Orphen's wife is well, with her new husband and child._"

The prince felt anger grow inside of him. How could nature be so unfair? " _Surely if we find her and explain to her that he will die for he does not wish to live without her by his side, she will think this over_."

"_She knew that this could be the outcome of ending their relationship." _The healer informed him sounding both saddened and sickened by the woman's actions._ "They both knew, and both accepted the risk. There is nothing we can do apart from making his last days as comfortable as possible._" He sighed. "_Elves and humans love differently...This must be why the king never gives his blessing to elves who chose to bond with a human." _He shook his head as if to forget everything. "_Do your people a favour, your grace: do not leave us for a mortal. It may not be worth it for you, and loosing you would be the greatest of loss for the realm since the queen's passing." _He put a hand on his hip. "_Besides, I cannot imagine our king deal with the dwarves and the humans from Laketown himself_." he laughed. "_These are matters we need _you_ to take care of. The king could do it of course, but we all know that the less king Thranduil has to deal with non-elven, the happier he is. And a happy king, means a happy and prospering realm._"

Legolas gave an automatic nod for sole answer. It seemed to satisfy the healer, who went back to his work smiling.

The prince experienced something for the first time: fear. The fear of death. The fear of loosing his people; these people he loved and who loved him back. The fear of what his father would become he was to die. The fear of being cheated by Irony like Orphen was cheated by his sweet wife. The fear of loosing himself.

* * *

(Irony POV)

"Did you, oh intellectually superior creatures, never heard about _repellent_?" Irony threw at Glorfindel.

The elf raised both brows in incomprehension. "Why would we need repellent for?" he asked. Irony wondered if her friend wasn't a little simple in the head. Maybe his mother had rocked him too close to a wall when he had been a baby. If he had ever been one. The more she stared at Glorfindel, the less she could picture him ever having been a baby. Nor even a child. And especially not a teenager. To her, Glorfindel was that gigantic muscled teddy bear. He was also slightly off in the head; he was a dreamer. His head was always up in the clouds though his feet stood firmly on the ground. touching.

"Oh, I don't know." she shrugged. "To repel spiders maybe?!" she offered. The elf sighed. "Just how do yo usually get rid of spiders? And don't tell me that you do not suffer from spiders invasions because, I don't know, spiders don't like elven houses or something!" she exclaimed. Glorfindel laid back in his chair to avoid being hit for she moved her arms frantically whilst she spoke.

"When there are just a few we take them in our hands, careful not to harm them, and put it outside so that they may keep on living elsewhere." he told her. Irony slapped her forehead. She should have seen that answer coming. Of course elves would not grab the first thing they could find and crush the nuisance.

"Yes, but what about when they are many of them? And what about the ones that bite? I know you don't die from their poison, but I am guessing their bite still hurt, doesn't it?"

"We do not crush them either if that is what you would like to know." he told her on the same tone her mother used to use on her to reproach her with something. She frowned. "And I do not understand this human practice," he started. "Some spiders carry their eggs inside of them. Crushing them is freeing the the dozens of babies it is carrying." he told Irony. She made a noise of disgust and shook imagining a dozens of spiders crawling all over her arms and legs. The elf sighed. He had probably guessed what she had pictured and didn't understand her reaction. Elves liked all creatures as long as they were the Valar's making. No matter if it had eight legs, six eyes and looked as unnatural as one creature could get. "When they are many of them, and for the ones that bite, we use spells to make them leave. The use of repellent could be traumatizing for them, so we refrain from using any." he explained.

Irony sighed in frustration at the good nature of the elves. She wondered if Legolas would agree with that. He seemed like the type OF ELF who would crush spiders and get mad when a dozen more would go running all over the place. Irony laughed inside picturing it happening. He would be stomping in circles, growling and clenching his jaw. His face would probably turn red as well, and she would have to hug him to help calm him down.

"Why don't you use spells for the big ones then?" Irony asked. That would be the answer to a rather seizable problem.

"The wood elves have tried," began Glorfindel, shaking his head. "The spells are not powerful enough." he told her. "But it seems that the repellent you used works quite well on them. If you would tell us what you used we could-"

"Stuff." she cut rather coldly. She had no intention on telling the elves what she had used. _They should have opened their eyes when I made the mix_, she thought. But in truth, the reason why she was so unwilling to help them was another one: why should she help creatures who cared not about her? Why should she care about them? There was no reason for that.

"Refusing to help us will only comfort the idea that you are spy from he dark lord. And rumours spread fast." he told her. He sounded slightly worried. If he was worried about what the elves could -or would do do her if they thought her an enemy, or, if he was worried about the elven realm being invaded by the spiders, Irony could not tell. But whichever it was, was not good enough of an argument to make her change her mind. She wondered when she had become so stubborn. Was it even stubbornness, or was it simply that she liked the power she felt she had because she may be in possession of a solution to save the Woodland Realm from the spiders?

Her stomach growled, causing her to cringe and loose track of her trail of thoughts. "I'll tell someone, but not you. Not now. But soon, I promise." she told Glorfindel. The elf kept silent, but what he meant to say was obvious; he did not think she would hold to that promise. "Should we go and have a look at those spiders cadavers then?" she changed the subject.

"No thank you." he replied, making a grimace. "Seeing the small one caused my stomach to flip so I am afraid that looking at big dead ones from close would make me sick." he explained. He did look quite pale. Irony didn't understand why: sure, the big spiders where ugly, but normal spiders looked exactly the same to her, only in smaller. "Besides, the armoury is too far away."

"The armoury?" she repeated. "Aren't the healers those who will study the beasts?" she asked the balrog slayer.

He finished his cup of tea. It smelled funny. He then stretched, and rubbed his left shoulder before speaking, "They are." He yawned lazily, then sighed."But placing gigantic dead spiders in the healing quarter might scare the patients." he told her. He rubbed his eyes like a child, then frowned a little as if to smooth out his face. "If you'll excuse me now, I need to rest." he said, standing up. He always seemed tired having having drunk some of that tea.

Irony frowned deeply, furrowing both her brows. "I thought elves didn't sleep often?!" she threw at him as he began to make his way towards the door. "And don't you have to guard me?!" she added.

"I trust you know the way to room," he answered, smirking. " And I trust you won't get yourself into any trouble so that I do not get into any trouble myself." His smirk grew wider, then he yawned again and left.

Irony snorted loudly. When she walked around the castle by herself, a golden soldier always ended up dragging her to her room by the arm. Even when she told them her room was where she was going, they had to hold her arm all the way to there. And rather roughly so.

She pushed her chair back and stood. Her stomach growled loudly again, but she decided not to pay attention to it. She looked into the corridor. A golden soldier turned his head to look at her. She sighed, and rubbed her arm in apprehension.

* * *

**A/N:** ARRRRGH! The revelation I wanted to write in this chapter will come in the next chapter because I just went with the flow and made the chapter longer than I had intended on making it x)) I hope it doesn't bore you though! There are a bunch of things coming up that I am not quite sure how to pull yet :/ But well, we'll see about that when the time comes!

**WickedGreene13:** You can sleep peacefully at night, I will not turn Irony into a vampire! Nor into anything that sparkles for that matter xD I laughed so hard reading that comment! I even got really tempted to write something like:

"When Irony stepped into the sun, this time, the pain she usually felt was gone although the light still made her feel uncomfortable. She felt as if her blood was warmer when she was under the sunlight. When she looked at her hands, she almost chocked: they reflected the light. She felt as though she was a big clumsy star that had fallen from the sky and as now walking on earth. A most ridiculous thought, though she had no doubt the elves would find that poetic, and find her beautiful now. "

**Sour:** I had thought about making her eat her babies, but.. well I can't really answer you right now as the answer to what she is craving for will come in the next chapter. But good thinking there 8D

**Komakipureblood:** Sorry, no love scene in this chapter either as I am trying to develop the plot at the moment! but Legolas and Irony will have some more smooth/cuddly moments..._hopefully_ 8D

**escerina: **Thank you a lot for your sweet comment! I'm glad this is entertaining you 8D

And thank you to all you who are reading this story!


	31. Fulfilling the deal

**Fulfilling the deal  
**

(Irony POV)

Irony tried to wretch free from the soldier's Iron grip but nothing would do. She frowned, knowing that her arm would bare the mark of the golden elf's hand for days. She guessed it would hurt as well, but she was so hungry she probably wouldn't feel the pain all that much. She brought her free hand to her stomach that kept on growling, and looked down at it as she forcefully kept on walking forward, until she hit something.

She raised her head, and brought the hand she had put on her stomach to her forehead and rubbed it to make the pain go away. She cracked open an eye, then the other. There was an elf from Tauriel's guard in front of her. She had hit his chest. And he wasn't even wearing his iron armour on top of uniform. _What do elves need stupid armours from the dwarves for when their chest alone is hard like the rock of mountain?, _she thought, annoyed and glaring.

The guard barely gave her a glance and turned to the golden soldier. "_All armoured soldiers are required to go to the healing halls in emergency._" said the guard. "_The tranquillizer wore off the spider's system faster than the healers had expected, and it is now running free among the patients. It has already made three victim."_

The golden soldier looked down at Irony with an unsatisfied look on his face. She wondered if he blamed her for the spider was running free again. That would be uncalled for. "_I am to bring her to her chambers, first." _started the golden soldier. "_On order of the king, the female human must never be let to wander alone in the castle._"Irony would have rolled her eyes at that if it wouldn't have given up the fact that she understood sindarin well enough now.

"_New order of the kings, all armoured soldier are to go to the healing quarters immediately, to immobilize the spider._" insisted the guard. The elf looked more serious than Galdor was. So serious in fact, that the golden soldier let go of Irony. Then he gently pushed her towards the guard.

"_I shall leave her under your care then._"complained the golden elf before stomping away. It seemed all elves did not have symbiotic relationships. Irony wondered if there was hierarchy between the guards and the soldiers.

"Do you know the way to your chambers, my Lady?" asked the guard, once the soldier was gone. His tone was harsh, but Irony doubted his anger was directed at her. Surprised that the elf spoke the common tongue, all Irony was able to do was nod. "Please, regain them in your own then, and without making any detour." he ordered. He waited for Irony to nod, before walking away briskly. She guessed he had more urgent matters to take care of. He had probably been tasked with calling all of the king's soldiers to the healing quarters.

When she could hear nothing but the noise of her own steps, Irony stopped to look around her. The corridor was empty, dark, without any surveilling eyes. She was out of her room, and unguarded for the very first time. She smiled wildly considering all of the possibilities that were open to her: she could go where ever she wanted. Or _almost_. She guessed that the way to the healing quarter would be filled with panicked elves and golden soldiers so she shouldn't, and wouldn't, go anywhere close to it. The king's division was out of question as well; Legolas had told her that whatever happened in the castle, and even when the king was absent, there were always guards in this part of the castle.

The possibility that such an opportunity wasn't the result of some lucky randomness also crossed Irony's mind. Maybe this was all some kind of trust test, some mind game the king and the Captain were playing on her. But she doubted it. Neither one of the two elves would ever go so low as to plan something of the sort. If they wanted to trap her, surely a war genius and a cunning sovereign could come up with a better trap than _that_. No, this was a fortunate occurrence, and Irony would make the best out of it.

She decided to take a turn left, and walk down the staircases, down into the black of the shadows, reminding herself of her ninth rule: '_There is always someone looking at you. Because you cannot see them, doesn't mean they cannot see you. You must not give them any apparent reason to doubt you, nor your intentions._ And so, walking casually, and looking as innocent as she could, Irony prepared herself to tell a beautiful lie in case she was caught.

* * *

(Irony POV)

Noiselessly closing the door behind her, Irony took a deep breath. It had truly been a long walk to the armoury. But no one had noticed her. At least, no one _relevant_ nor caring enough to call out for a guard.

The armoury was empty as well; it seemed that everyone was too busy taking care of the spider. Maybe she should have told someone about the repellent; it would have avoided the commotion. Still, from where she was standing, the spider running free, busying everyone was a bliss. If she was ever given the opportunity to, she would have to thank the healer who has not given enough sedative to the monster.

She took another deep breath, but ended up coughing: the smell here was horrid. She looked around her. The room was darker than she had expected it to be. But her eyes accustomed to the lack of light rather quickly for she had spent the past weeks living at night instead of during the day, with only the light of a few lanterns to lighten her way inside of the elven cave.

She took a first hesitant step. Then she figured she should probably take her knife out of her boot, and so she bent to get it and hold it firmly in her right hand. Legolas had given her that knife when he had brought her to the infirmary the very first time. He had said that it was in case she needed to defend herself. She had never had to use it. And even if she had had to use it, she doubted that it would have been of any help against an elf. She had wondered then if she would ever get to use it, and had concluded that by giving her the weapon, the elf had only wanted her to feel a little more safer. And it had worked.

She pulled the large sheet off one of the two spiders' dead corpses, and tried not to make any noise to express her disgust because of the strong and musty smell.

Disgusted, she realized that if she did not act quickly, she wouldn't be able to act at all. She sighed, squatted near one of the spider's many legs, then determined and somehow angry at the same time, she cut a small part of it, tore the hair away from it, then stuffed the piece down her throat, only to throw it up immediately. Unsurprisingly, the beast's meat tasted exactly like she had expected it to taste: bad, inedible, nasty.

She wiped the vomit away from her mouth, and decided to try again; her hunger had amplified the minute she had touched the small spider, and she doubted it had been a coincidence. It couldn't be, could it?

Slowly, Irony went back from all on her four to a squatting position, cut another bite off the dead spider's leg, and, this time, decided to peel the shell off its actual body before stuffing it in her mouth. And spitting it out before even swallowing it. The stuffy black blood was acidic, the gooey like texture of its flesh was sour and it all tasted worse than rotten meat topped with pus.

Irony's stomach growled louder than it had before. And it caused a fire rise inside of her. Mad, but mostly desperate, tears began to fill her eyes as she pursed her lips not to scream out of frustration while hitting and stabbing the monster's abdomen, then letting herself fell down on her ass.

"You've fucked me good, asshole." she said, hoping that the Black Knight would somehow hear her.

She had remembered having read something about hunger in some elven books. The hunger for possession had lost the Mightiest for the Valar made by Eru. The hunger for power had lost one of the Maiar. The hunger of vengeance caused a royal Noldo elf to have his whole line being cursed. Hunger in general was what made animals and humans kill each other in order to survive. Hunger was a curse. Increase it by a hundred and you create creatures with no other goal nor ambition than clenching that hunger: wild _stupid_ unreasonable beasts. Just like orcs. "There is no way to cure this hunger...nor the thirst, is there?" She wiped the dark blood off her hand with the reverse of her dress so that it wouldn't be visible. "You really covered all of the angles with that curse of yours, didn't you?" She laughed frantically. "If I don't get pregnant: I'll go mad because of the cravings and will probably end up killing myself while you'd get to eat my soul. And if I get pregnant: yes, the hunger will quieten for a while, but I'll have to walk around with a corpse inside of me, because you'd have eaten its soul." Irony sighed again, and swallowed hard. She had been outsmarted, and for once, she could see no issue out of her troubles.

She stood, dusted her dress, wiped the rest of her tears away. She had never let herself cry about her misfortune, and she wasn't about to make it a habit. After all, all wasn't so bad: having a corpse inside of her couldn't be so bad. It would probably only be awkward because she would be aware that the baby is dead.

All she had left to do was...well.. have someone to put a baby inside her belly. She could convince the elf to do it; like all elves, he loved children and the perspective of fathering one made him so excited he would forget to think with his head for a time.

She pictured Legolas holding a stillborn baby. _His_ stillborn baby. Then another stillborn. And another. And another. It would destroy him so slowly and completely.

Her hands closed into fists. _It is either you or the elf, _she told herself before throwing the knife he had given her in a box filled with other similar ones.

* * *

(Legolas POV)

When the door shut open, Legolas didn't even look up his paper work. He had gotten used to his father's dramatic entrance, and refused to let it disturb him while he was working on some form of durable peace treaty between his people, those of Laketown, and the dwarves of Erebor. An important task, but mostly an impossible one, he believed. What the dwarves and the humans agreed on, the elves disagreed with; what the elves and the human asked, the dwarves would not give, and what rules the dwarves and the elves wanted to be imposed to all, the humans would not apply. Desperate, the price took his head in both his hands and sighed.

Small hands forced him to lay back in his chair, and the person he had assumed was his father his laps.

"Irony?" he blurted out uncomprehending what she was doing in there. They had had a talk about where and when they could or should not meet. His office was part of the places she wasn't supposed to visit him in. As the door was closed, he didn't have the heart to push her away, although it would have been best. "Where is Glorfin-" She shut him up with a demanding kiss for few seconds. " _What_ has gotten into you?" he asked. He was pleasantly surprised though worried by this lack of prudence. Still seeing her only a few hours having seen Ospen dying made him feel uncomfortable.

"Uh-uh," She shook her head. "Wrong question." she answered. She gave the elf a minute to to think of another question but he came with nothing better than a hard long stare and a happy shrug followed by a kiss on the forehead. The human made a face that betrayed her disappointment at his inability to understand where she was going, then decided to give up the answer, "The right one was: what has _not_ gotten into me?" Legolas raised a suspicious brow at the way she was grinning. "You! You, idiot!" she exclaimed loosing her patience. The prince usually was the impatient one. He failed to understand why she was in such a hurry about mating when she had been consilient about taking their time until now.

_He_ was in no hurry any more. Especially now that he had seen what could happen to him if things went wrong between them if they bonded.

The woman kissed him greedily again as her hands teased his ears. The prince felt his body warm up as his discomfort grew. Once his uneasiness had outgrown his excitement, he felt compelled to to push Irony away, once more. "Not here," he whispered as he pulled out, embarrassed. how could he kiss her when the more seconds passed, the more he thought of setting himself free of worries by leaving her? "The guard could hear." was the only excuse he could come up with. Strangely enough, the human did not pick up his lie. In fact, she seemed entirely unaware of the fact that he was bothered with her being here. She usually noticed quickly when he was feeling down. She had said it was because now that she knew how to read him, his emotions were written in capital letter all over his face.

"Let him!" she yelled loud enough for everyone in the corridor to hear. Hopefully, all the guards were still occupied by the spider's escape.

The prince quickly covered the human's mouth with his hands before she could give them away. "What does it matter?" she mumbled, her mouth still covered. He did not have an answer to that question. Or at least, not one the mortal would like. Fortunately, she did not wait for him to reply to speak again. "The whole realm will know about us when I'll push a little blond headed baby with blue eyes out of my vagina." Despite her habit to make things sound less poetic than they were, the prospective that Irony pictured her future raising his children – no, their children, softened him in a way he didn't know one could be softened. It was a weakness of sort, he guessed.

And so taken by excitement and joyful, the prince's body moved on its own to have his lips meet Irony's again, more gently than before. He put his hands on her hips, and pulled her as close to him as he could. And as he let her pull out to suck on the sensitive skin right behind his ear lobe, he remembered something unpleasant.

"You told me you could not procreate at the inn, in Greytown." he told Irony as he laid back in his chair again, putting some distance between them. The remark caused Irony's left brow to furrow a little.

"I lied." she affirmed. The prince remembered having thought her honest when she had told him that. It had come out of her mouth without inflection, and with a certain carelessness. On the other hand, she was acting quite strangely at the moment, suddenly wanting to rush the day of their union, and taking the unconscious risk to come to his office alone. He felt himself tense angrily. And Irony must have felt it too for she straighten her back unnaturally. "I will ask you only once," he started, serious, " Is there something you would like to share with me?"

"I want to have your baby." was her straight answer. She had not even taken the time to think. The Irony he had met never made a decision lightly.

Legolas lowered his head to look at her stomach, thinking. Irony began to caress his cheek with he back of her hand. He grabbed it gently, and kissed it. "You lie less well than you used to." he told her without warmth in his voice.

"I am no-"

Without letting her finish, the prince forced the woman off him. "Irony, understand that if you do not trust me, there can never be a 'us'." The words must have hit her with a certain violence for it took her a moment to answer.

"I trust you." she said looking straight into his eyes. And she sounded honest this time. However, now that she had lied to him once more, she could be lying again? Since there was no telling, Legolas wondered if he could ever trust her again. He felt like she had just broken something that would take a long time to put back together. If it could be put back together at all. " But you must understand that you are elven, and I am human," she began to explain. "The way we trust is different." she added, half pleading.

"Just like the way we love must be: different." he said. His mouth felt dry once the words were out. He wasn't entirely sure that he felt any better nor lighter now that his thoughts were shared.

Irony's brows furrowed and her jaw trembled. Her mouth opened a first time, but closed without making a sound. Then her hands closed into fists and her brows furrowed more deeply. "_Different_, doesn't mean that it is not just as real." she argued.

"Does it not?" he insisted. "Even if it is real –and I want it to be- ….how long?" he asked her, gently cupping her face with his hands. "How long?" he repeated, saddened. " For how long can a human love the same person?" Probably feeling insulted, the woman pushed the elf's hands away from her not so nicely, and turned her back to him. It did not refrain him from talking. "For how long can a human even _want_ to love the same person when they know they will not live for long and could meet someone else, somewhere else, and experience love differently? Perhaps even more strongly?"

"You are scared of me leaving you at some point, so you are leaving me _now._" she said sounding exasperated. "Do you realize that it doesn't make any sense?"

Legolas felt himself grow angrier as well. He thought Irony's refusal to try to understand him selfish. "Do you not know what could happen to me if we bond and you leave me?" he reminded her.

The woman exhaled unpleasantly as she rolled her eyes. "'IF'!" she yelled. "It is such a small word, and yet, it highlights the fact that an _innumerable_ number of possibilities _other_ than the one you mention exist!" she pointed out, her tone rising still. "So what IF I never leave your side?" she asked. "What IF you are giving up the best thing that will ever happened to you?" she asked.

The Sinda considered the argument for a moment. "Irony, the only thing we are certain of, it is that you will pass away in only a few years time." he threw back. "And when it happens," he paused, finding it emotionally difficult to imagine. "When it happens, if we have bonded, and even if I live through it, I will have to live forever knowing that we will never be reunited for mortal cannot enter the immortal lands." he told her. "I will be left living, feeling like the half of something greater." Irony's faced closed, and her anger disappeared. She looked away and put on a forced smile. "Please, do not resent me for this, I am just-"

"A coward." she cut. And so did her words. Legolas felt his inside hurt as though he had taken a vicious punch." The biggest risk one can take in life, is never to take any." she told him, having regained her usual calm. She was right. Again. "If you want to live a safe, _insipid_ life, go ahead. I won't stop you. It seems you've already made your min-"

"_My Lord?_" a servant called from outside. The prince would have gladly ignored the elf hadn't him and Irony made so much noise, revealing that they were inside the room. In order to keep appearances up, he allowed the servant to come in.

"_The results of tests that have been run on the human's blood are ready_" he announced. "_Lady __Tinwel __has told me to bring them to the king but...His grace is busy at the moment ."_

Legolas blinked a few times; he had expected another sort of news. He looked at Irony who seemed utterly annoyed, bothered. When his gaze met hers, she only shook her head in discontentment before heading for the door.

"Irony!" he called, but she had already stormed out of the room. He sighed loudly in front of the servant's concerned look. "_Just..leave them to me," _he told the younger elf. The servant complied, and the prince threw the paper on his desk, thinking that he had more urgent matters to take care of first.

The servant nodded and turned around to leave._ "If you could-" _the prince started again. The other ellon stopped and waited for his order. "_Could you, please, follow the Lady back to her chambers, and make sure that she returns there without making any detours? There is no need to hold her arms." _he added. _It would bruise her badly_, he thought but did not say, _and will not see her harmed. "Then, maybe...have lord Glorfindel check on how she is faring." _

"_It will be done as you commanded." _said the servant, bowing low.

* * *

**A/N:**

Another late post, sorry :V Am having crazy exams all over the country and can difficultly access internet, what sucks hardcore. I'd never thought I'd be so dependent on something one day in life, but I simply can't do shit without the connection connection x))))

Anyway, here is the knew chapter! Read and enjoy! Though this is a pretty sad chapter...Poor Legolas is being an ass despite himself (:E) I love making those two argue because it fits them so well to that!They both have strong personalties, dislike being wrong, and I guess sort of like conflict.

Alsooo, I hope you never saw the whole hunger thing coming! At first I had wanted to have her eat the spiders and all but then I realised it wasn't cruel enough of a curse and would serve no real purpose but gross everyone out. That apart, I hear spiders (tarantula) sort of taste like chicken...I don't think I'd let myself be tempted though :p


	32. Being a good little human

**Being a good little human**

**(Irony POV)**

_Good thing I had prepared my escape,_ thought Irony as the elf who had interrupted her talk with Legolas opened her chambers' door for her to enter them. _I need to act fast or those blood exams results will be the end of me. _Irony had noticed the changes in her body: the weight loss, the paling of her skin and the darkening of her blood. It foreshadowed nothing good, that was for sure. What had she become? She didn't know. The elves probably didn't either. There were really few chances of her still being human though she still had the appearance of one. Humans didn't live forever; only elves did. Only elves _and_ unnatural creatures of darkness the black Knight made lived forever, it seemed. Still, at this point, she wasn't even certain any more that she was immortal. For all she knew the Black Knight could have simply cursed her and given her nothing in return. She cursed under her breath thinking about she had been naive to agree to that deal, and about how stupid she had been to keep it a secret. But how was she supposed to tell an elf she had feelings for that she had promised to give her yet unborn babies' souls to... a powerful and obviously evil force. _You were stupid! Stupid!_

Instead of being a good human and entering her room, like the servant expected her to do, Irony pushed the fair creature inside of her room, before closing the door behind him, and using his few seconds of confusions to hide in one of the spots Kili had showed her. If the elven cave had obviously been carved by overly talented people, it remained a cave: meaning that sometimes, they were wholes in the walls. Holes that the dwarf had taken notice of, and holes that Irony had never thought so useful as now. The panicked servant walked right passed her without seeing her. Obviously nervous, instead of going towards the throne room, or towards Legolas' office and risking either one of the royals' anger, the servant left in the direction of Glorfindel's room. He probably had in mind to ask the balrog slayer to help him find Irony before anyone could notice she had vanished. Good thinking. _Good __**predictable**__ thinking!_ Irony smiled to herself. She had earned herself some time.

When she was certain the elf could neither see nor hear her anymore, Irony left her hiding place, careful not to be seen by any one, though there was no one around to see her. She went to her room, walked to her desk and took several pieces of parchments out of a nicely carved wooden box. Legolas had made that one himself. Irony found she liked the box a lot less now that the prince had revealed his true nature: he was a coward. _However _so was she, she had to admit. She had been mad at Legolas when they were talking, but now, she was only mad at herself. He only wanted to protect himself and his people by not bonding with her, what he had the right to do, while by bonding with him Irony only wanted the painful hunger to stop. What she had the right to wish, but could not obtain without making the elf suffer. And yet she had been ready to sacrifice him. She liked thinking that she would have stopped the elf before it was too late, and maybe even told him the truth. But that was only a fantasy. Irony knew herself; she would have never stopped Legolas. She would have cheated him, and hated herself for it, but the hunger would have stopped, and so she would have felt better somehow.

However for now, the hunger wouldn't stop. Neither would the thirst.

She felt light headed for second and had to help herself with the wall in order not to fall to the ground. Her plan was risky and stressful. All details would matter.

She grabbed a feather and some ink, and thanks to the peace of paper on which Legolas had written "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.", she wrote herself a love letter imitating his writing. She had chosen that sentence because all of the alphabet's letters were in it. Since she had practised copying the elf's handwriting before, just in case this day would come, the task was done efficiently and at a frightening speed. She shook the paper a little so that the ink would dry faster, then, she crushed it into a ball in with her hands to make it look older than it was before stuffing it inside her corset, and carefully wiping all trace of ink off her hands.

"Rule n°6: either lie well or not at all" she reminded herself, "and I better lie damn well this time."

* * *

**(Thranduil POV)**

Thranduil's late wife had been the sweetest of all elleth., and though she enjoyed the routine of her life, she had never missed an opportunity to surprise him when she had found one. Yet, never had the king been so taken aback than today, when the cunning looking human entered his throne room, unannounced and unaccompanied.

Unsure if he should order for her to be killed on the spot or listen to whatever reason she had to have come to see him without asking for an audience first, his fingers curled around the armrest of his throne as he shifted position to cross his legs. His brows furrowed instinctively. And so did the woman's eyebrows when she stopped in front of him and stuffed her hand down her corset.

Whatever she was doing, even if disturbing, the king would not be affected by it. Or at least, he would not show that the gesture was making him feel ill at ease for it was highly inappropriate. Still, he wondered what kind of...trick, the human was about pull out of her chest.

"An old...dirty peace of paper?" said the king slightly disappointed. In all honesty, he had hopped that she would take a dagger out of that corset in a desperate attempt at killing him. It would have given him reason enough to have his soldiers begin 'questioning' her.

" Proof." she corrected, seeming a lot less nervous than she had seemed when she had entered the room. Thranduil found his interest being picked by the ball of paper the mortal was now handing towards him.

"And proof of what, may I ask?" The king had decided not to make a move before knowing what the paper contained. For all he knew, it could have been sprinkled with some sort of poison that would either paralyse or kill him.

" Proof of your son's affection- no, _love,_ for me."

Thranduil's back straightened as his muscled stiffened. And his grip around the armrest of his throne hardened. Anger rose inside of him, still, he refused to let a human make him loose control over himself. What sort of elven sovereign would let himself be affected by a mortal. Especially when one could not never be certain she was telling the truth. Still, the simple fact that the woman suggested that Legolas could be involved with, not a only a beggar, but a mortal was insulting.

"Whatever you may think my son feels for the likes of you is unfound-" Despite the fact that the words came out menacing and venomous as a snake's venom, the human cut him in his speech.

" It is _his_ writing." she said insisting for him to take the piece of parchment she held. He ripped it off her hand, carefully to examine it in the process looking for trace of ink on it, but there was none. Besides, one look at the inside of the paper was enough to recognize Legolas' handwriting. Like his late mother's, the prince's handwriting was unique. Besides, few elves apart from Legolas would compare their feelings to hunting. The elfling had his very own interpretation of romanticism. The letter was written by his son, the king was certain of it.

A mix of anger, disgust and disappointment took over Thranduil's stomach. "I knew if I came to you empty handed, you would not believe me, so I brought it." she added, sounding _so_ proud of herself, almost condescending.

Signalling for his guard to cease the woman, the king spoke. "I believe you have enjoyed my hospitality for longer than it should have lasted." he spat. "However, as you did not bring me this letter simply to enrage me, I suppose you would like to ask a favour from me before I have you thrown out of my castle." _Spy or not, I doubt the spiders will make the difference_, thought the king.

The human let the two golden guards grab each one of her arms without showing any resistance. She only grinned. Thranduil desperately wanted to acquaint her face to his boot, but doing so would be un-kingly of him for she could not defend herself against an elf.

" You are forgetting that you _cannot_ throw me out." she started. "I mean you could but," she paused, probably to add some drama to whatever she was about to say. "Legolas would hate you for the rest of your long, _long_ life if he was to hear of what you did. And I am quite certain that he would find out about it for I have given him no reason to believe I wanted to leave this place. " She paused again and smiled almost nicely. "Of course," she started again, "Should you cooperate, I am ready to write him a letter explaining that I _chose_ to leave because I have gotten tired of him, so he should not come after me. Nor even ask you any question."

Thranduil took a long, deep breath. Every single nerve of his body were alarmed and screaming for him to hit the human. The idea that Legolas had been manipulated by that woman made him _sick_. It revolted him as much as it hurt his pride. How could his son be as naive as to fall into such an obvious trap? Surely the woman had planned it all from the beginning. She probably came from one of the nearby villages such as Laketown; there, every one knew who Thranduil and Legolas were. She had probably arranged for Legolas to put himself in danger so she could save him, gaining his trust in the process. The Orthanc stone? No doubt this was another calculated move of hers. She probably even had used it to observe Legolas.

_I should have never agreed to her staying here. She is just another human scum, trying to make a profit out of a good soul. _

" I will do us both a favour and be straight forward for I do not wish to deal with you any longer: how much?" asked the king before ordering his guards to release the woman by a light gesture of the hand. The two guards let go of the human's limbs immediately and went back to stand still on each side of the king. When they did not move, they looked more like statues of elves than living elves.

"Hmm," The mortal pursed her lips. "If I had known that you would consent so easily to giving me some coins, I would have showed you that letter much sooner. But we all do best to be careful, don't we?" Thranduil bit his lower lip not to insult the woman. She was not giving him much of a choice: Legolas was his only _weak spot_, and the human was using it against him. If there was one compliment that could be made of the girl, it was that she certainly was not stupid. "Though, I have to admit that I did enjoy being treated like a precious porcelain by your darling son! His company and devotion are quite exquisite. He even-"

" I said, HOW MUCH?" yelled Thranduil as he stood to stand face to face to the human. Surprised by his speed she had not even had the time to take a step back. Killing her would be as easy as satisfying. And knowing that he could not do so, was most frustrating. "My patience has its _limits_." he insisted when the human began smirking again.

"I want what I _diverse_." she said, seeming unimpressed. "I want an escort big enough to walk me out of those woods _safely_. I want two of your best mounts, and twice my weight in gold. Grant me all that and you shall be rid of me before the next hour starts."

"You have used my son and you _dare_ blackmailing me, _peasant_." He paused to breathe in so that he could keep the little calm he had left. "Do not think your miserable self worth more than you are."

"My offer only stands if you take it before I leave this room." she retorted on the same tone.

Tied. Thranduil was tied.

"Agreed." he grumbled before snapping his fingers.

* * *

**A/N: **

I am soooo sorry for not updating sooner x) I've been crazy busy with a lot of stressful things but all that is finally coming to an end so I'll have more time to write!

In this chapter you finally know why I spent some lines describing Irony absolutely wanting Legolas to write down some senseless sentence! She had it all planned! - Though betting on the fact that the servant would head for Glorfindel instead of immediately reporting to Legolas was truly risky...

More seriously though, I hope that it's obvious that Thranduil is not stupidly being cheated on, but that he is just too impulsive and involved emotionally by what's happening to think objectively. I truly love this angry-impulsive character and how his behaviour should not be one a of king- and yet he is one!

The next chapter should be ready for next week!


	33. Kind regards to the good King

**Kind regards to the good king**

**(Glorfindel POV)  
**

"My weight in gold and my very own escort await me in the stables, can you believe it?" The elf did not answer. " Well, I personally can't". She added shrugging, then let herself fall on her bed, ass first.

"I did not ask you to _sit_, Irony. I asked you to hand me your bedsheets." urged the elf. With one hand he held both of the servant's hands in his back, and with the other, he covered the younger elf's mouth so that his screams wouldn't be heard.

Glorfindel had had a feeling that something of the sort would happen sooner or later. He had hoped it would be later that he would find himself in the uncomfortable position of having to choose between his kin or his dear friend. Strangely, helping Irony flee from the elven king's realm felt righter than positioning himself on Thranduil's side. He guessed that today was the reason why Elrond had insisted on him going to the woodland realm. Though, he doubted that what Elrond had foreseen was him helping Irony escape the woodland realm.

When he was woken up, his first reaction had been to ask the servant to walk with him to Irony's chambers. Two royal guards had been there. They told him that they were here to ensure that the human reached the stables in all safety, and without being noticed. It didn't take Glorfindel a long time to convince them to let him and the servant inside the room; being 'the balrog slayer' had a lot of advantages. Irony had simply been sitting at her desk, writing something, when they came in. A simple glance of her at the servant was enough for the Vanya to understand that the other elf needed to be neutralized before she could speak freely. A simple measure of caution since the elf probably didn't understand the common tongue.

The human laid back lazily, before undoing the bed while she was still on top of it. Once she was done, she handed the sheet to her friend, although, having both hands busy, he could not possibly take it. "Wouldn't it be easier if you knocked him out first?"

"To mask the sound my fist will make when it will meet his face, I need you to wrap that sheet around my hand." he informed her. She raised a brow and grinned.

"Which one? Both of them seem quite busy at the moment." she teased. Glorfindel began to loose patience. Whatever was happening seemed serious and yet, _she_ seemed _amused_ by it.

Without answering, he moved his right arm so that his forearm would cover the servant's mouth, liberating his hand in the process. Irony lost her grin and hurried to wrap the sheet tightly around her friend's fist. The second after she was done, the servant was unconscious, and Glorfindel was carefully laying him down on her bed so that he would, at least, be comfortable when he would wake. He was not a real enemy after all.

"Now, would you care to inform me of what is happening?" he finally asked. Irony frowned. And without answering, she began searching the knocked out elf's body. Glorfindelf figured she was looking for the results of her blood exams. "You won't find them." He told her. She stopped, and seemingly thinking that Glorfindel had read the document, Irony paled. However Glorfindel had never seen the document. However, since he had come back to life, by being in contact with a person's skin, he could _feel_, _sense_ things about them. And so, he knew more about Irony's condition than he supposed Irony knew about herself. "Your blood is not- is no longer similar to a human's. You are no longer...what Eru intended for you to be." _You have a dark lord's creature black blood, _he thought;_ What happened to you? _

Irony opened her mouth, but no words could come out of it. She took a deep breath, yet, she did not seemed to calm down. "We don't have much time left." she finally said. "We should tie him up." And so Glorfindel unwrapped the sheet from around his hand and helped Irony roll it up around the servant.

"What did you do with it?" she asked. The nonchalance she had shown until now had completely disappeared. She had become serious. More serious than the balrog slayer had ever witnessed her be before.

The Vanya supposed that Irony was talking about her blood analysis. "He," the Vanya pointed at the servant, "Gave them to Legolas. However I doubt that the prince has read them yet. Otherwise the wood elves would probably be 'questioning' you right now, not offering you an escort to..Why are you being offered an escort?"

Irony ignored his question, and seemed to relax a little. "Thank you." She paused. "For helping me." It sounded more like a question. Glorfindel nodded, and gave her a smile, hoping it would reassure her. In truth, he wasn't certain of how far he would go in order to help her. He knew that if whatever she would do next went against the values he believed in, he would not hesitate to deliver her himself to Thranduil. Surely Irony was conscious of that.

"Could you, please, tell-"

"Not now, later." she cut as she stood. "Right now, you have to get me out of here, out of this realm." She went to her wardrobe and began to take her underclothes out of their drawer. "Or the king, will have me killed." After having thrown half of the content of the drawer on the floor, from the inside of a pastel violet thin gown, Irony took out a parchment. Hidden there, no elf would have ever found it.

"Meaning that he knows about about you and his son."

"He does!"she exclaimed.

"How-" he paused. "_You_ told him... why?"

"It's a long story." She unrolled the parchment and laid it on her desk. Glorfindel stood to see what the document was hiding. "All you need to know for now is that the king and I made a deal. _But_, wanting to cheat me, he ordered his guards to 'end me' once we would have reached the border." she explained.

"Reached the border?- Wha-" He shook his head. "King Thranduil is an excellent tactician. He would never have said that in front of yo-"

"He did!" she insisted. "He does not know I understand _Sindarin_. Neither does any one else than myself." She raised her eyes to look into Glorfindel's. "And you, now." Glorfindel could not hold his frown. Irony seemed to have hidden _many things_ from _everyone_. As if she had known that it would be useful to her. Had she planned everything from the very beginning? "I know: that's a lot to take in." she started again. " And there is more...but, I promise that I will fill you in about absolutely everything when this is over."

Glorfindel sighed. He was not left much of choice."What do you want me to do?" he asked as he bent over the parchment.

"I studied the books in the library and from all the informations I could gather, I reconstituted a more or less - _I hope_\- accurate map of the castle's tunnels you told me about." she explained. Glorfindel's heart almost skipped a bit. How far ahead had she planned her escape from Eryn Lasgalen? It suddenly became apparent the lord of the golden flower that if Irony had survived the cruel world of men and orcs, it was because, contrary to what appearances let people think, she wasn't a prey, but a _predator_. He was now uncertain of Irony's nature; she _could_ be a spy sent by the Dark Lord. Still, he intended on going as far as necessary to unwrap the mystery. "I need you to come with me. You can see in the dark, I, _can't_."

The elf stared at the map a few seconds. "There." he said, as he pointed at corridor. Irony raised a brow and furrowed the other. "I think this is about where we found the child who had gotten lost in the tunnels. I should know this area well enough, and if this map is so much as more or less accurate, there is a chance we _can_ find the nearby exit." Suddenly, Glorfindel thought of something that could compromise this plan. "Legolas...?"

Irony sighed heavily. She shook her head. And sighed again, covering her face with her hands."If we talk about him now, I will cry, and _probably_ tear my hair off." she admitted. "Do you want me to go bald?" The balrog slayer furrowed both brows uncomprehending the situation even less than before, and shook his head. "Good." she replied. Her eyes moved to fix the door as she rolled the parchment and stuffed it inside her corset. Leaving it behind would make it too easy for the soldiers to find them. "Should I open it?" asked the mortal.

"No. _I_ will open it." he said as he stood straight, and readied himself. "You should lay on the floor, pretend you are not faring well." Since Irony put on a confused look, Glorfindel added; "They will rush inside without thinking. They won't have the time to realize that this is a trap."

* * *

**(Legolas POV)**

How long had it been since Irony had left his office? A few minutes? An hour? Five? More? Legolas didn't know. The only thing he was certain of at the moment, apart from the fact that he felt awful and selfish, was that he hadn't been able to do any productive thinking. All he had done since the woman had left his office, was stare at the result of her blood exam analysis.

The document was still carefully wrapped in its envelop. Its stamp? Unbroken.

_I should open it,_thought the prince as he took the envelope with his left hand. "Should I?" he asked himself letting it fall back on his desk as though it was burning hot.

He took his head in his hand, closed his eyes, sighed and asked himself the one question every living being gifted with a consciousness asked themselves: _What do I want?_

He had never had any doubts about Irony's loyalty. Not until _now_. Having a possible proof of her being a spy of the shadow of the east in his hand made everything feel different. _Wrong_.

Legolas's hand shook. He was a curious elf. He had always been a curious elf, for the better or the worst. Both of his hands shook with anticipation of what the envelop contained. He stared at them as his fingers twitched with anxiety.

He ripped the envelope open in one precise move.

Then...

He froze...and had to remind himself that breathing was essential to living.

He stood, crushing the paper in his hand, and headed to door hurriedly. _"Guards!_" he yelled angrily. Two elves from his guard ran to him. "_With me._" he said. And they followed him as he stomped to Irony's chambers.

Never had the prince been as enraged as right now. Irony's room was a mess. They were plenty of clothes of the floor – proof that she had been looking for something, her chair had been moved and two knocked out golden guards laid on the floor – proof that there had been some fighting there, and the servant he had sent to fetch Glorfindel was squirming on the bed, trying to untie himself. Unable to control himself, the prince grabbed Irony's chair and shattered it against the floor.

"_Aendir__, Mallospen, bring the lord of the golden flower to the throne room._" he ordered, aware that Irony alone could not have neutralized three elves. Let alone one. And who else than Glorfindel would help her here? No one. "_Use force if necessary._"

The guards left.

Ceased by another wave of violence, Legolas readied himself to destroy Irony's desk with his fist. However, when he looked at the piece of furniture, he noticed that it was covered with papers, and that a feather, still wet with ink, was put on it. The hint of hope for an explanation that flashed through him at this moment constrained him to examine all of the documents from closer. One of them he recognized quickly for it bared his writing. But then...he looked at the other pieces of papers, and recognized his writing on them all.

As he searched through all the pieces of parchments, trying to recall when he had written love letters – if only one – to Irony, he found that only one of them had a different handwriting on it. Irony had written it.

In perfect Sindarin!

It said:

" _'Kill' is the first word of your tongue that I learned, my good king. __  
_

_Kind regards, __  
_

_Irony "_

* * *

**_A/N_**

_There, there! Enjoy! But don't read it too fast, because the next chapter will be very short :/_

_Also, about the tunnels, (in case you have forgotten about it) you can read about Glorfindel telling Irony about having been searching for a child inside of them. the chapter is called "Foxes and rabbits"._

_Poor Legolas is being desillusioned_

_I am having a lot of fun reading your reviews! Thank you for all of them C:_


	34. Pieces of paper to start a fire

**Pieces of papers to start a fire  
**

**(Thranduil POV)**

Impatient, fingers fidgeting, Thranduil was waiting for his soldiers to report back to him. To report a the death of of low life. Killing the girl, or young woman – one could never be certain with humans-, was a severe sentence, the king had to admit. However, he also had to cover his tracks, and protect Legolas' future. In truth, the sovereign was more angry at himself than he was at the human or at his son. He wished he had found out sooner about that secret relationship that was only the pretence of one. But how can one find out about something they cannot even _think_ is possibly happening? Legolas was never a discreet elf though; the boy had not hesitated to claim his love for Tauriel at a dinner party, with half of the kingdom present. Thranduil had almost choked on his cake and had spilled his wine all over the tablecloth. _A nightmare ends only when a worst one starts, _he thought.

He would be so much as _happy_ if Legolas could think he was in love with Tauriel again, so long as he forgot the human quickly and didn't undertake to go after her. With a few advices, the prince may even be able to seduce the red haired elleth, getting Thranduil rid of the dwarf in the process, so that there would be no more intruder in his realm. But this fantasy would stay one for the captain of the guard and the dwarf had _unfortunately_ already bonded.

Seeing the heavy doors of the throne room open, Thranduil smiled to himself, thinking that his golden soldiers had come back bringing a good news. However, it was Legolas who had come in. Stomping. Face reddened. Brows furrowed. And dilated nostrils. If he had been of the race of dragons, he would have been spitting fire everywhere at the moment. Walking the steps to his fathers' throne, he took a piece of paper out of his pocket and slammed it against his father's chest spitting out; "_What is this?_"

Feeling as much defied as insulted, Thranduil stood to tower over his son, and despite himself looked at the paper he had been forcefully handed. He immediately understood. _That human quim cheated me, _he thought.

"_I-..._"

"_Can explain?_" cut Legolas. As he took a few steps back as if disgusted by his father. "_I am listening._" he said. But didn't do, for without giving the king enough time to open his mouth, the prince spoke again. "_She was __**my guest!**_" he yelled. "_Why did you scare her away? WHY?!_"

It took Thranduil long seconds to compose himself. Legolas and him argued often. However, his son had never raised the tone at him before. Or at least not they were guards around. He understood Legolas felt betrayed. "_Scare her away?_" he finally managed to answer, without showing how sorry he was for having hurt his elfling's feelings. "Do not be so naive, Legolas!" He raised the tone as well, and changed tongue so that none of the soldiers in the room would understand what was happening. The shame would be too great. Though, Thranduil wasn't sure what he was more ashamed of: that he had attempted and failed at killing a hopeless human or that his son had fallen for that human? "You know very well why I had to take actions against that _tic_." Legolas's face paled a little. It seemed his son was not aware that he knew about him and... the wench. "How sick do you think it made me feel?" he asked his son, who was know trying to make himself forgotten. "Do you know how much she has asked me in exchange of her to leave ?"

Legolas frowned but lowered his head in defeat. "I don't want to kn-"

"Twice her weight in gold!" cut Thranduil. "That is as much as you are worth to her." he added, trying to make Legolas understand how worthless he was to the human. Twice her weight in gold was the price she had set for Legolas's life. How _cheap_.

Legolas muttered "_Stop_", if his father had heard it and felt guilty for deepening an open wound, the king of the woodland realm pretended not to have heard a thing in order to make his point.

"What were you thinking bringing her kind here?" he grounded. "I thought you knew better than to trust humans. How could you be deceived so? How-"

"I don't know!" yelled Legolas. As he had adopted an offensive position, the closest guards had wanted to restrain him, but Thranduil had forbidden them to do so with a gesture of the hand. "...I don't know." Legolas added after having calmed down a little. He was still staring at his feet, avoiding his father's intense gaze at all cost. To Thranduil, Legolas had turned into a small child once more. A child being eaten by guilt and sadness. He wanted to take his son in his arms, but doing so in front of the guards was not appropriate; it would depict both of them as weak. "I thought..Irony was...she..." He was unable to finish his sentence.

Thranduil lowered his head as well, disappointed by himself. He may have gone too far.

The throne room's doors opened a second time to let two of Legolas's silver soldiers come in, followed closely by two of Thranduil's golden soldiers and by the Commander.

"_Your grace."_ one of them said, as all of them bowed low to the king. The golden soldiers having failed their king, did not dare look at his face. The Commander went to stand near Thranduil, and threw him a reproachful look when their eyes met. The sovereign ignored it; Galdor had a knack of rubbing people's mistakes in their face. The elf in silver that had spoken turned to Legolas_."The lord Glorfindel was not in his apartments. We could not find him elsewhere either." _

"_What does that mean?" _Thranduil asked his son. Legolas did not answer. Instead, the prince furrowed his brows and turned to his soldier.

"_Did you ask the guardians about the Vanya's comings and goings?"_ The young Sinda sounded authoritative. Thradnuil felt proud for he liked seeing that Legolas had inherited a few things from him.

"_We did." _the soldier replied._ "He was seen by none of them. They all are positive that neither him nor the human ever went through the gates_."

The king saw his son's rage grow once more; his face that had returned to it's usual colour became red for the second time today. Legolas glanced at his father as if to ask him for an advice about what he should do next. However, without having asked for anything, nor even having waited for Thranduil to suggests something, the prince turned back to the elf he was talking to. "_Tell Tauriel to gather her guard, and tell them to scatter up north."_ The Sinda turned to Galdor. "_Commander send half of your soldiers south, and the remaining east." _he ordered before turning back to the other soldier dressed silver. "_Gather the others. We are also going for the hunt."_

"_Do not give any orders."_ Thranduil told the silver soldiers. And so none of them moved a finger. They were under the prince's command, but an order coming directly from the king could not be disobeyed. Legolas began to disfigure his father. It was apparent that the prince wanted revenge on the human for she had used him, and on the balrog slayer for she had seemingly fled with him. Thranduil would not have it that way. "I am also _pained_ by the fact that I will have no confirmation of her death," he started. "But_ w_hy risk spilling the blood of ours when the spiders that plaguing the forest will take her of her."

Stubborn as ever, Legolas had a reply to his father's argument; "Glorfindel killed a _balrog;_ he will cut through the spiders like butter."

"Even _he_ cannot protect himself and fight of several of the beasts at the same time as he protects her." He paused. "She _will_ die." he finished. And believed the conversation was over, until his son began angrily and hastily searching his pockets for something. Thranduil felt his headache grow. This was the third time today that he was handed a parchment, and his intuition told him that whatever was written on that one would please him no more than what he had read on the two previous ones. He was very tempted to burn it and pretend it was of no importance.

_Still_, reluctantly but determined, he unfolded the document. He read it. They were the mortal's blood analysis. The king closed his eyes and took a deep breath so that he would not rip the paper in a thousands little pieces and throw them in the air while screamed out his frustration. So far, nothing was going well today. His emotions cloaked in thunder Thranduil, folded the paper carefully, before turned to one of his golden soldiers. "_Ready my armour._" he ordered. The elf left the room to do as he was told immediately. Then without even glancing at Galdor, Thranduil handed him the parchment. The commander took it out of the king's tensed hand. Thranduil did not turn to look at his friend's face. He guessed his expression was none too far from the one he had had himself when he realized he had been feeding a spy all along, and that that very same spy – who probably knew the castle's defences and resources by heart – had just fled.

"_I shall inform all the soldiers to shoot to kill once she is found._"said Galdor sounding exasperated.

"_What of the balrog slayer?_" asked Legolas.

Thranduil had begun to walk down the way to head for the door. "_What of him?_" was the king's reply. At this point, if the lord of the golden flower was found helping that tic of a human, for all Thranduil cared Legolas could have his way with the traitor.

* * *

**A/N**:

There was a whole scene with Thranduil telling all the guards to leave so he could hug Leggy, but in the end it didn't fit in the scene so I had to delete it :C I think that's the hardest when you write something, they are things you would like to write more about (like the complex Leggy/Thranduil's relationship or even just Thranduil's inner self) but it just doesn't really have its place anywhere (I couldn't write about it because they are kind of in hurry so it would have been weird if Thranduil decided to take his sweet time comfort his son) unless I begin writing flashbacks but that would slow the plot more than it would embellish it :/

Anywayyyy, sorry for updating so late x) I just couldn't find the time D:

I hope I'll be able to update soon! thank you all for reading 3


	35. Be glad they aren't wargs

**Be glad they aren't Wargs**

**(Glorfindel POV)**

Irony began walking slower. And so, Glorfindel decided to walk slower as well. So far, the human had not seemed hesitant as to which way to go nor to which turn to take. In fact, she had been so sure of herself that the Vanya could swear she had already explored the cave. That aroused more suspicions from him against her. He half expected her to jump on him with a knife at any moment, though he did not remember seeing her pack anything with a blade in her bag. Nor had he noticed any suspicious bulge in her boots, nor around her waist or hips.

Still, now that they were too far from the castle for anyone to hear them, even if they screamed, Irony had suddenly _stopped_.

She plunged her hand in her bag as she turned her face to the side to throw him half a smiled. The balrog slayer tensed. He could not get his eyes off the hand he could not see. What was the woman reaching for?

"Are you afraid of me?" she asked out of nowhere, sounding almost surprised. Instinctively, the elf shook his head and smiled a little trying at the same time not lose focus off the human's hand. It wasn't moving in the bag, meaning that she had probably found whatever she been looking for. "Answer truthfully." she insisted, fully turning around this time.

"Why would you think such a thing?" he answered now holding her gaze. He had not lied. He wasn't afraid of her. He was simply leery regarding what she was about to do. Or so he liked to think. Being afraid of a female mortal would be ridiculous, wouldn't it? But what if just like she wasn't exactly human, Irony was no longer exactly _mortal_?Nor even physically weaker than an elf?

"You keep staring at me," she accused, squinting her eyes. "Just as if I you were thinking that I am hiding something..." She faked looking her her words, like she often did. "_Dangerous_ from you." she finally finished.

When the human said the word 'dangerous', the lord of the golden flower glanced at her bag to make sure her hand was still in it. It hadn't moved.

Glorfindel began to wonder if Irony knew what he had been staring at precisely. Knowing Irony, she had probably guessed. But in case her intentions were not half as innocent as she made them seem to be, the balrog slayer decided that feigning ignorance was the best option for now."How would you know if I have been staring at you when you have been walking in front of me all this time?"

The woman cocked her head to the side. "I could _feel _you stare." she said, half complaining about it and frowning. Her hand was still hidden inside her bag. "But you make a point there;" she started again, grinning. "You're the one who can see in the dark and yet, _you_ have me walk in front of you."

The elf was taken aback for a second. He had told her to walk in front of him so that he could observe her at the distance of his choosing, pretexting that it was to guarantee her protection. "I have asked you to walk in front of me so that I would not have to worry about any projectiles being shot at you from behind, all the while being able to see what is coming from the front."

Irony raised her left brow. She did not believe him.

"You keep on asking questions about what I will do next." she replied as next argument, taking a large step forward. Her hand was still inside of the bag.

"Am I not allowed to wonder what my dear friend will do once this chapter of her life will be closed?"

Irony sighed. "Glorfindel." she exhaled sounding somewhere between disappointed and annoyed. "Your hand has reached for your sword every time I have turned around. And it has locked itself firmly around the grip when I took a step towards you, a second ago." Glorfindel looked down at his hand. It was in fact locked around his sword's grip. "You don't even know you are doing this, do you?"

"I-"

"I am not going to kill you." she cut, slowly and carefully taking her hand out of her bag. Glorfindel readied himself to strike. However, Irony's hand was empty. "Nor anyone else." she added furrowing her brows. "I _can't_ kill any of your kind, anyway. And even if I could, I _wouldn't_." She sounded desperate. She wanted him to believe him. But should he?

"Not even Legolas?" he asked. Irony had growled many unkind words about him under her breath, clenching her fists, while walking. The balrog slayer was positive he had heard her say '_I will kill him' _at some point. Although, now that he thought about it, she had not specifically said that she wanted to kill Legolas, she had just said 'him'.

"Are you mad?!" she yelled! Glrofindel stepped back. "When Legolas finds out that I left, that I literally exchanged him against gold coins, that my blood is similar to an orc's, and that I brought _you _along to flee with me, he will be out of his damned elven mind!" She snarled. "Do you have any idea of what he is capable of when he is mad?" Glorfindel didn't know the exact answer to that question so he shook his head as an answer. Still, he remembered very well the time he had confronted the prince about Irony; the Sinda had proved to be much stronger than he looked and completely unable to control himself. "Well if you don't, _I do_!" she yelled. "He almost strangled me when...then he tied my wrist so tightly...and...FUCK! The way he killed those men so _easily, _as if it didn't matter, it-" She paused, breathing heavily. Glrofindel looked at her up and down; Irony was shaking. _She is terrified of him...And she is right to be._ "The very _last_ thing I want is to cross his way." She turned around as if she was done, only to turn back again. "He'll _hate_ me, Glorfindel." she said so low the elf almost didn't hear her. "That's not what I want. I wanted...I'm not just leaving because of that arse of Thranduil, I'm also doing it so that Legolas won't suffer."

Glorfindel bit his lips. He felt guilty for having doubted her. He put each one of his hands on her shoulders. "What are you trying to protect him from?"

The woman pushed her friend away, plunged her hand back into her bag, and took a jar out of it. It was full of a sort of viscous paste that had a strong smell of cinnamon and lemon. "We're close to the exit." she affirmed, changing the subject. Whatever she wanted to hide, must be compromising enough for her to refuse speaking of it even now. "Rub that all over your skin and clothes. Even you boots." she told him as she started doing so herself.

The elf touched the mixture with a finger. "It sticks..."

"If it didn't stick, it would fall off you before we would even encounter a spider, making it useless." She handed the jar to him, insisting on that he takes more of the paste. "Just be glad that it isn't wargs we are trying to avoid. Otherwise it is their excrement we would have to rub all over ourselves so that they would not be able to smell us."

Thinking about that made Glorfindel cringe. Elves did not like dirt; they were clean creatures. They liked what smelled good and what was untainted.

He plunged his hand in the jar and began to apply it on his clothes.

"What if it doesn't turn out the way you expect it to turn? What if the spiders aren't repelled by it?" he asked Irony who was applying the repellent on her hair. _Gross._

"Plan B."

When she did not explain herself, the Vanya felt compelled to question her about it. "May I ask what plan B is?"

"We run." she replied un-alarmed about the inefficiency of her plan. "You in one direction, and me in the other." She stood. "Hurry, we should leave. They have probably noticed that we are gone by now. Our only chance to avoid them is to arrive at the river before they scatter all around the forest."

* * *

**(Legolas POV)**

Perfectly still behind a thick tree, the prince let the spider that had been slowing him and his guard down pass him. The beast was amongst the biggest he had seen so far, and it was relentless. It had bitten three elves in only a few minutes. Legolas put those victims on Irony's back. Wasn't it because of her that his brothers in arms were out here? Aye, it was _her_ fault.

When in its search for a next victim, the creature went down a few branches, Legolas gripped his sword and jumped on the spiders back. In an instant, his blade was deep inside the monster's flesh causing it to shriek and move about in order to make the prince fall. But Legolas kept his balance. He wasn't impressed by the insect; he had killed some of them before, and he would kill this one as well. He pulled his sword out of the spider's back, only to stab it again. And again. And again. And again, until the creature screeched, and finally, ceased to moved. Legolas jumped off it before the heavy body fell.

Having heard nearby leaves move, without taking the time to take his breath, Legolas turned around, ready for his next offensive.

Tauriel came out of the leaves. Thankfully the elleth blocked the prince's sword before it was too late. "_Watch out with that sword, it isn't made of wood._" she scolded her friend. Legolas lowered his sword, but did not utter an apology.

"_Have you found them?_"

Tauriel frowned deeply. And taking her sweet time, she sheathed back her short swords. Legolas grew impatient for he knew Tauriel was acting this way on purpose; it was her way to punish him for being rash. She had always thought that he acted before thinking about the consequences his acts could have. "_So?_" he urged.

"_They have been spotted west._" she finally told him. He immediately sheathed his swords as well.

"_What is the king waiting for to order their capture?_"

"_He is waiting for Irony to reveal her powers_."

It was Legolas's turn to frown. "_Powers?_" he repeated. "_Is this a joke?_" he growled. Maybe Tauriel was on cahoot with the woman and the balrog slayer. After all, she and the Vanya were seen walking together in king's garden once or twice. "_Irony has no power! She doesn't know the first thing about magic! If anything, she is scared of it! And __**you**__ are aware of that for I have told you about it myself, before._"

He took a threatening step towards the captain of the guard. But she wasn't impressed. She stood tall and proud to face him. "_She might have fooled you on that point as well._" she replied on the same icy tone he had used. The words cut him deep, but Legolas found he deserved them. He had jumped too quickly to false conclusions."_The lord Glorfindel and her walked past three spiders untouched._"

Legolas never expected that. "_How?_"

"_We know not_." she admitted sounding annoyed. "_For now_." she added. "_The spiders surrounded them, got ready to attack then... the woman jumped on of them; she grabbed its leg and... it jerked back and stepped out of her way._" Legolas remembered how Irony had managed to capture the small spider, in the castle's kitchen; she did not seem to fear it, as if she had known it wouldn't hurt her. "_Following that, the two others spiders did not attempt to approach neither her, nor the balrog slayer._"

"_I have heard enough, take me to her._" he ordered the elleth. She did not move a foot. She only crossed her arms on her chest. The prince sighed. "_Please_." he added, annoyed. Tauriel turned back in the direction from which she had come, to show him the way.

* * *

**(Irony POV)**

Findel had tried to convince Irony to travel from branch to branch. Irony had snarled and told him that he might as well break both her legs before they beginning the running. She now regretted not having listened to him. Moving on the ground and hiding in bushes was useful when the people after you were humans, not when they were elves. Damn elves moved in the trees, what enabled them to see perfectly what was happening on the ground all the while being hidden behind thick and high trunks, branches, and a whole lot of leaves! Besides, no bush was big enough to hide Glorfindel. _Why did he have to grow so tall and large?!_

A branch cracked. Glorfindel pushed Irony behind him as if to shield her from something. But after a few seconds, no projectile was thrown, and no other noise was heard.

Not one, single, little, noise. Not one.

"No animals." Irony whispered. "Not even birds."

"They must be close." replied the balrog slayer, confirming Irony's fear.

"Closer than you think."said a familiar. Less than a second after, arms were closing around Irony. She suddenly felt some pressure on her side. Then her face met the floor. Pushing herself back on her feet as fast as she could, she looked around to understand what had happened. Glorfindel was standing in front of another elf. Her friend had pushed her away from Legolas.

"Plan B!" yelled the Vanya as he took out his sword.

Irony turned around to run. But a sword was in front of her face. Not even trying to understand whose sword it was, she ran in the opposite direction. She was grabbed. She squirmed to set herself free, until she realized it was Glorfindel who had caught her. She looked at the ground: an arrow was planted exactly where she would have been if her friend had not saved her. She looked around. They were everywhere: in the trees and on the ground, forming a circle around her and Glorfindel. _When did they-? How could Glorfindel not have heard them?_

"Arrow coming from the left!" she told Glorfindel, who was struggling to keep Legolas at bay all the while carrying her over his shoulder. He moved swiftly away. The arrow missed. But Legolas's sword cut through the balrog slayer's clothes on the forearm. He let Irony fall. She was beginning to feel nauseous from being shaken around so much.

A hand grabbed her arm. She raised her head look at who it belonged. It was Legolas's; he was taking advantage of the fact that Glorfindel was checking his wound. She snatched it away from him only to crawl backwards, to Glorfindel, who at the sight of his blood seemed to have become mad. '_Battle feve_r' was what orcs called it when one showed atypical violence during a fight.

Barely avoiding Irony, the Vanya launched himself at the prince. He swung left. The prince stopped the blow with one of his short swords. But the balrog slayer was stronger, and he kept pushing. Legolas was forced to use his second sword in order to fully block the attack. Out of the blue, Glorfindel kicked the prince's leg, who lost his balance and fell.

All the soldiers were so fascinated by the duel that they seemed to have forgotten to fire their arrows. Even the king was standing still. However he was tensed and irritated, certainly not fascinated.

Irony used that time to stand back up. She barely had the time to take a step, before seeing Thranduil make an almost invisible gesture of the hand. A sensation of imminent danger crossed her. And her instinct was right. However no arrow nor blade came her way. Scared of what it could mean, she turned to glance at Glorfindel. Galdor and about twenty golden elves were trying to restrain the Vanya, who alone, managed quite well to keep them all at a safe distance. Irony felt reassured. Until she realized Legolas was nowhere to be seen.

"_No one can help you now._" the prince whispered in her ear.

* * *

**A/N:**

I am sorry guys, I can't let you know about the ending! But this chapter is not the last one, that's all I can say!

I am under the impression some of you are feeling like feel when I read game of thrones when reading this fic! First You are all excited, then so mad you don't want to read the story any more, but you just can't help it! If it is the case, then I'm glad! reading should always be intense!

And omg, writing 'Glorfindel' so many times without misspelling it must but the hardest thing I have ever done XD (or did I misspell it somewhere?)

**Guest 1: **I am glad that you understood really quickly that Irony was also leaving for Legolas! I was afraid it wouldn't obvious enough or that I wouldn't find a place for Irony to explain that!

**Guest 2: **I also think that Thranduil and Irony should hang out more together, they'd make a funny duo! But seeing as things are turning out for now, I doubt they'll get a chance to get to know each other..or will they get enough time?

**Amy: **Sit tight! The next chapter will be even more complex!

**Komakipureblood: **One never knows what can happen when characters with different personalities all have a different goals set in mind!**  
**

Thank you for all your lovely comments 3


	36. As heir of this realm

**As heir of this realm**

**(IRONY POV)**

_Previously: _

_Irony used that time to stand back up. She barely had the time to take a step, before seeing Thranduil make an almost invisible gesture of the hand. A sensation of imminent danger crossed her. And her instinct was right. However no arrow nor blade came her way. Scared of what it could mean, she turned to glance at Glorfindel. Galdor and about twenty golden elves were trying to restrain the Vanya, who alone, managed quite well to keep them all at a safe distance. Irony felt reassured. Until she realized Legolas was nowhere to be seen._

"_No one can help you now." the prince whispered in her ear. _Irony opened her mouth, but decided to keep it shut as the elf had a really pretty knife (that looked just like the one she had thrown away) to her throat. It seemed to her that the world was going in circles: she had killed her last captors by cutting their throats open, and that was how it seems she was going to die. "For once, you do not have a come back." added Legolas. Irony would have rolled her eyes to that if the situation had not been so serious. Her hands were locked behind her back, kicking the prince, even with all the strength she had, would serve no purpose but to annoy him, Glorfindel had lost reason as he was fighting like an enraged bull, and hundreds of wood elves were around them.

_All that just to catch me. They sure have some time to waste. Fucking elves. _

She tried moving her hands about so that Legolas would loosen his grip a little, but he ended up tightening it instead."Tell him to stop." He ordered her, obviously speaking of the balrog slayer. He was certainly afraid Glorfindel would end up killing someone. Irony stared at him. He wasn't breathless yet, though he had knocked down four golden soldiers and and three silver ones. He was, in all honesty: scary. Even scarier than Legolas right now. She wondered if contrary to what the prince had told her, the balrog had not been pushed off the cliff by the Vanya, but had jumped off it in order not have to face him. Irony was glad she wasn't a wood elf right now. Legolas might kill her, but at least she wouldn't be beaten up until she lost consciousness.

"Why would I make it any easier for any you?" she replied. And regretted her words. The blade moved closer to her skin cutting a thin layer of it near her jugular. She wished she had learned to hold her tongue.

"Do not make things any complicated than they already are." he insisted.

"_You_ and _your king_ are the only ones complicating things." she started, raising her chin up, so she could have a glimpse of the elf's face. It was dark and cold. "You could have let me leave these woods." she told him. "You still _can_."

"No spy leaves these woods with their head on their shoulders." Hearing that sent a shiver down Irony's spine.

Still, it didn't prevent her mouth to make her sound braver than she was; "Then fucking cut it off and be done!" She grinned.

The prince didn't answer but forced her to move slightly to the right so they would face Thranduil, who was standing a good thirteen mettres away from them. Irony guessed Legolas was waiting for his father's next order.

Thranduil raised two fingers up. All the archers armed and raised their bows. "Tell him to stop, or we will _make_ him." threatened the prince. It took Irony all she had left of pride not to answer to that threat. Also she knew that elves didn't kill other elves. Or at least they hadn't killed each other since Glorfindel's youth. A long, long, long time ago.

After she spat on his boot, she felt Legolas make a movement from behind her. Thranduil then made a slight move of the head to give a signal to Galdor. The Commander took a few steps back from where he was standing, put away his sword, and extended his hand to a near by wood elf. The soldier handed him a bow and an arrow. Galdor positioned himself. And Irony readied herself to warn Glorfindel. Before she could utter a word, her mouth was stuffed with some cloth, and the arrow flew away. It landed less than a centimetre behind the Vanya's right foot.

Galdor turned to Irony. "This was a warning shot. Next time I will aim for his sword hand." he told her. "He may never be able to hold one ever again after today. This is _your_ call." He took a second arrow from the nameless soldier's scabbard, and readied himself to- Irony shook her head as in-controllably as one could with a knife pressed against their throat. Legolas removed the cloth from her mouth.

"FINDEL!" she yelled as loud as she could. She heard some birds fly away. She had caught everyone's attention. Glorfindel stopped net, sword high in the hair, blinking. He looked as thought someone had just dropped him down on earth; he was confused. Irony shook her head at him; and he understood. There was no point fighting any more. He let his sword fall. Surprisingly, no order to restrain him now that he unarmed was given. The wood elves probably trusted he wouldn't attempt anything foolish.

Legolas puffed almost noiselessly and whispered to her "I see _he_ can rely on you." That caused Irony to almost grin; what the prince had just said sounded like a reproach made out of jealousy.

"Did I not tell you not to trust anyone when we first me-"

"Twice your weight in gold." cut the Sinda. "Is that truly all you think I am worth?" he asked pressing the blade against her throat with more insistence.

_As if that was a small amount, _thought Irony. "That's all I could have two horses carry." she answered to annoy him. And it worked for he began to twist her wrists slightly. Irony began to envy the elves than had been beaten up by Glorfindel. At least their suffering had not lasted long enough to suffer a pointless questioning that promised to be slow.

"_Empty her bag!_" ordered the prince once he had gotten Irony to whine a little out of pain.

The bag had fallen off her shoulder when she had met the ground the first time. Two random elves walked to the object and opened it with care. First they took out a folded sheet. Irony had taken that in case it would get colder at night. But they had barely made it to sundown. Next, a small flacon of salve was taken out of her bag. Glorfindel had given her that saying it was used to make scratches disappear faster. She hadn't had the time use it either.

**(LEGOLAS POV)**

Then the two elves searching the bag...froze for a second. Grimaced. And with the tip of his fingers, one of the two elves took out a jar. It was filled with some sort of brownish orange paste.

"_What is this_?"Galdor asked himself out loud, sounding displeased. He disliked surprises and unidentified objects. The commander gave the bow and arrow back to its owner, and went to have a look at the jar. He opened it, grimaced and closed it up immediately. "_It reeks of cinnamon, and lemon_." he complained, putting the jar next to the rest of the items that had been taken out of Irony's bag.

"What use did you have for that ?" questioned Legolas, twisting the human's wrist a little in hope that it would make her speak faster. He knew her well enough to know that she would do all she could to gain some time and think of a way to escape what was awaiting her. But he would not have it. So when she refused to talk, he twisted her wrists some more.

"It's a spider repellent!" she threw between two moans. By the tone of her voice, Legolas guessed that twisting the woman's wrist made her more angry than it actually caused her pain. Or perhaps it was the pain that caused the anger? He wasn't sure. All he was certain off was that if he didn't control his strength, he would soon break her little bones.

"Liar!" he shouted. "You used it to do your magic." Despite this accusation, the prince was less than half convinced by the fact that Irony could use magic. Besides, he failed to see what a mix of cinnamon and lemon could have to do with magic. Magic came either from the inside energy of a being or from the five elements; it had nothing to do with fruits and spices.

"I don't know shit about magic, and you know it!" Irony shouted back. She was getting angrier and more agitated. If Legolas had not pulled back his knife a little, she would have cut her jugular on it without him making a single movement to cause her death. " _And_, I have never wanted to have anything to do with it."

"She tells the truth, Legolas." intruded Glorfindel who seemed to be almost himself again. "Spiders do despise lemon and cinnamon." Somehow the fact that the balrog slayer spoke on Irony's behalf made Legolas want to punch him. Then her. Why did they have each other's back so?

"Spiders have no sense of smell." argued the sinda.

"No but they have a good sense of taste." Since no one seemed to understand what he was trying to tell them, Glorfindel explained; " We covered ourselves with that paste. When a spider tried to attack us, Irony threw herself on its leg, where its tastes buds are, so it would think us non comestible."

"And why should we trust a word _you _say?" began Thranduil who until now had remained silent. The lord of the Golden Flower raised a brow in incomprehension. "You were found helping our prisoner to escape, were you not?" accused the king.

Glorfindel turned to Legolas. "Smell her." he told him. Legolas didn't have to. He had noticed the smell of cinnamon the moment he had caught her. The prince nodded to his father in order to confirm that the human had indeed applied the paste on her skin. Thranduil furrowed his brows in discontentment as a response. "And if I agreed to leaving with her," Glorfindel started again, " It was only to ensure that no unnecessary harm would come to anyone."

Thranduil laughed sarcastically. Legolas never liked when his father laughed that way. It made him sound cruel. So cruel in fact that Legolas felt irony shiver a little. As far as he could remember, the woman was always scared of his father.

" Was this necessary?" asked the king, pointing at the people the balrog slayer had hurt. "Was attacking my son necessary?"

"He attacked us first." replied Glorfindel, sounding offended, but remaining calm. "I was only defending her and myself. Had I not y-"

"He attacked no one!" interrupted Thranduil. " He was only trying to capture that witch! And _you_ reacted to that by introducing him to your fist."

"She is _not_ a witch." repeated Glorfindel, loosing his cool a little as he had probably come to realize that arguing with Thranduil was fruitless.

"Really?" The king's tone was mocking. "So you admit having consciously been trying to kill my soldiers and my heir?"

Glorfindel was speechless to that accusation. Irony on the other hand was not; "If you-" Before she could say another word, Legolas shut her up with the palm of his hand. She already was in a bad posture, and if he wanted revenge on her, he did not want her death to be fastened. However, it seems that Irony would have it another way: she bit him. She bit him so hard the flesh began to tear, forcing Legolas to remove his hand away from her mouth. "He has battle fever!" she yelled at the king. Every one turned to her with round eyes. "It is a form of trauma warriors suffer from." she explained. It sounded true, and probably was since instead of denying it, Glorfindel only stared at the grass, fists closed on themselves. Legolas guessed Irony had just shared one of Glorfindel's shameful little secret.

The prince felt pity for the balrog slayer. 'Battle fever' like Irony called it was called the 'Kinslayers' sickness' by elves. It was named that because the elves who came to suffer from it had all been witnesses, though not necessarily participated, to the kinslaying, thousands of years ago. It was a form a guilt and phobia that pursued those who could not get over what had happened. It came and went most of the times, unless you were one of the unfortunate ones and it was sticking to you like your skin was to your muscles and bones. It sometimes was triggered by a second traumatizing event; the death of a loved one, the smell of innocent blood..._the fall of Gondolin? the fighting of a balrog? Being in the worlds of the living when you should be dead?_

Legolas looked at his father. He saw compassion in his usual cold blue eyes. It seems Glorfindel would be fully forgiven thanks to Irony's intervention. Even if Thranduil would not have forgiven the Vanya, there wasn't much he could do against him without making himself an enemy of Rivendell and Lorien.

The human was already preoccupied by something else. She was nervously glaring at the two elves who where still looking through her bag. They had taken a wooden box out of it. It was familiar looking. It was the one he had made her. The elves opened it. It was empty.

The prince brought back his attention to Irony who cursed when the box was opened. "Why keep-"

"Legolas." intruded the king. "End this charade." he ordered, as he climbed back on top of his moose, ready to leave. "The night is coming, and so will the spiders."

But Legolas was curious a curious elf. He wanted an explanation. Answers.

"Shouldn't we interrogate her first?"

"Her blood says it all."

"Her blood was not always black." he argued, although he doubted the sovereign would care. "I want to know what happened." _And badly so_. Had she tricked him from the very beginning? Or had she truly been human at first before becoming..._becoming what? Greyish? Black blooded?Changed?_ She had not even changed that much. Or at least not in her behaviour. She had mostly changed her habits: she was more alive at night than during the day; what every one had failed to notice since elves did not sleep at night and so it did not seem peculiar to them.

"What happened does not matter. What matters is what is _right now_." said Thranduil. Legolas wished Irony would say something to defend herself, but she remained silent and waiting. So he wished Glorfindel would react. However the elf was staring back at him obviously wishing _he _would do something.

Legolas was unsure what he wanted to do.

"Irony..." he began almost whispering. "Speak of what made you this way or you won't give me a choice." Irony kept silent. It seemed to Legolas that she was no longer afraid, nor shaking, nor even stressed. Her eyes were closed and her breathing steady. "Irony, if you don't speak now, you will _die_." he told her with as much tact as an elf could have.

The human tilted her head back. "Remember me." she told him on an unsettling calm tone that sent a shiver down his spine. _Is thi__s some sort of joke?_ Irony was always brave. _Stupidly brave_, as it was turning out. And determined. And how could he even forget all of what was happening? Despite his trying, he couldn't even forget all of her ridiculous made up rules of survival.

Legolas began to feel angrier that he had been before. Angry because she was accomplice with the balrog slayer. Angry because she had tried to bargain him against gold. Angry because she had fled. Angry because she was giving up so easily.

Angry because he felt useless.

He positioned the knife under the skin of her neck. He pushed it a little more and a trail of blood began to flow. It was black. It was thick. It was disgusting. It made him want to throw up. He readied himself to give her the last and well deserved blow.

**(IRONY POV)**

"I can't." said Legolas. Irony could not help but breath out in relief. She had not planned on Legolas being merciful although she knew he was not some sort of cruel monster. Maybe she would live for another day.

The happy thought died when king Thranduil raised his hand and all the soldiers armed their bows again, pointing them towards her. _You are one gangrenous dick_, she thought. And so must have thought Legolas for Irony heard him curse under his breath in elvish. She knew Legolas had not for an habit to oppose his father. On the opposite, he was rather submissive in front his paternal figure. But then who wasn't in front of Thranduil?

The prince released Irony's hands, turned her around and pulled her to him with an arm before placing his right hand on the back of her head, and his left hand on the upper left side of her back, probably so that no one could aim at her head or heart.

She had missed his scent. Him.

"Legolas! What the hell are you doing?" She asked.

"_Shut up._" he growled not so nicely. She hit his chest with her fist like she always did when he ignored her. Irony hated it when she was not in control. She was always in control of the situation. She had been in control of her dying a minute ago for she had accepted that fate. Except that now, she wasn't. Legolas was. And Irony knew him well enough to know that Legolas never had a plan. He was a great warrior, he probably wasn't a bad war tactician, but there was no _war_ going on. Just an execution that was taking too long.

"I trust she tells the truth." started the prince. Irony did not miss Galdor's loud sigh to that. Just like Thranduil, Galdor did not believe in trusting outsiders. Still, Irony supposed that if Legolas could convince the commender of her inability to practice magic, there was a chance she could be released. No, that would be too good to be true. Maybe they would keep her locked in the castle. If she was lucky, she may even have her very own cell. "I will have answers. As the prince and heir of this realm, as well as her host, and therefore as her voucher as well, _I_ will, in my full right, decide of her fate."

Irony mindlessly wrapped her hands around the elf, and buried her face in his plackart. It was uncomfortable and hard but she didn't care. It was the very first time a person she loved stood up for her. The others had used her. They had let her be mistreated. They had ran away. But Legolas was still there. Even if he did not entirely wanted to be.

The elven king of the woodland realm put on a forced and very much faked smile on. He was exasperated. "I do not care about what happened to her." he started. Legolas' hand held onto Irony more tightly. She realized the elf was every bit as scared of his father as she was. "I don't care if she used to be human, nor even if she is a witch. All I care about, Legolas, is that she no longer _is_ human." He paused, and looked at her up and down. "She has the dark blood, meaning that if the shadow of the east has not called on her yet, he soon will. And when that happens: our woods, our people; life as we know it now will be reduced to ashes rinsed with blood." Irony wished she had asked more about 'the shadow of the east. All she had found about it was that it was bodiless, and that for some reason it was nicknamed the 'eye that sees all'. She had suspected that they were books about who or what that shadow was exactly, books that could tell her if The Eye was the Dark Knight or not. But they must have been hidden somewhere. Probably locked away in a scribe's office. "We _cannot afford_ to give her more time."

**(Thranduil POV)**

"_What if you are wrong_?" intruded Galdor, speaking Quenya, a language that few elves spoke nowadays, and that the human could hopefully _not_ understand. The Commander was staying true to himself and pointing out the unpleasant. It was unnerving. But it was why Oropher had raised him Captain, and later, it had also been why Thranduil had named him Commander. Galdor never shied away.

"_What if I am right_?" grumbled the king. "_Isn't deleting a potential danger better than letting it be and give it time enough to grow stronger and stronger unt-_"

"ARGhhh-!"

The scream the human made was piercing. And for the most unexpected. The tone had risen, but no order had been given to shoot. _Yet_. But there she was, on her knees, squirming, an arrow stuck in her back.

Legolas paled.

"_WHO SHOT THAT ARROW?_" Shouted the king, his face red with rage.

* * *

**A/N:** Fooo! Sorry it took so long for me to update, the chapter wasn't finished and I have a millions things going on (AGAIN god damn it!) right now and so yeah..! It's finally there! It still isn't the last chapter though :p

Oh, and someone pointed out something to me about the orthanc stone that I forgot to explain earlier. Basically, what I call 'orthanc stone' is called a Palantir. But I wanted it to be from Orthanc (=Isengard's tower) and so I called it an orthanc stone (just like the one Saruman has is called).

WickedGreene13: I unfortunately can't answer you comment without spoilers so all I will say is stay tuned! This isn't over!

**Stella Limegood:** Thanks you! Intense was exactly what I wanted to go for!

**Escerina:** You got it all! The thing is, elves (in the books) are really selfish creatures...well not because they are selfish, just because their concept of selfishness isn't the same as ours and also elves think humans are the selfish creatures, plus in his head Mr. prince thinks he is all strong and unbeatable ...so from there he can't even conceive the idea that Irony could be trying to protect him from something...

**littlem:** Thanks for the support :) I'm glad you like the story and hope you'll enjoy it to the end! (And no worries for the spelling and all, English isn't my mother tongue either so make plenty of mistakes as well x) )


	37. End game

**End Game**

"_WHO SHOT THAT ARROW?_" Shouted the king, his face red with rage. Although he eventually wanted the human dead, he could tolerate neither insubordination nor sloppiness coming from his golden soldiers. Thranduil searched all fair faces as they all cringed like wounded animals when they turned came. None of them dared utter a word. All of them seemed innocent. All of their bows were still armed.

Incomprehension slowing crept on every one's face when no culprit was found.

**(LEGOLAS POV)**

Legolas wasn't looking up. He cared very little about the identity of Irony's attacker. He was preoccupied by Irony. She had fallen down on her knees, squirmed a little then stopped whining altogether. She was still conscious though, and clinging to his arms so fervently that if the leather covering his arms had not been so thick her nails would have dug deep into his skin.

All the while she wasn't saying a word, he was trying to remove whatever layer of clothing she had covering her back, avoiding to pull the arrow out in order not to cause an haemorrhage. He needed to know how bad her wound was.

As he cut the fabric of her tunic with the dagger he had meant to use to kill her, he remembered that time, the past year when they had been attacked by orcs in the mist. When he had fought and killed Bolg for good. Irony had bled. Almost to her death, he recalled well. He had not known what to do in order to stop the blood from flowing then, and he was afraid he would not know what to do today either if she started to bleeding senseless again. He had never understood the origin of her bleeding and he had never questioned her about it for he had wanted to forget about it. Elves were not fond of the sight of blood. Nor of its smell. Also, he wanted to forget how useless he had felt watching the red liquid flow, unable to find a wound nor to keep his calm. There had been butterflies in his stomach, but butterflies that made him sick. That let him know that something precious was about to be ripped away from him before he could even grasp what it was.

And now he was living that all over again. In _worse_. How stupid had he been to think even one second that he could let Irony die, let alone kill her himself when he could not bare the thought of being apart from her? That was the origin of his boundless rage; her wanting to leave him. Why? Why would she want to leave him? Had he not given her all that could be given? Covered her with gifts and love from head to toes? Even after she had began to pale, grown weaker and become secretive? If only she knew how testing was love for an elf. How much need for the soul to be tied to the loved one's was painful and restless. The need was always there, day like night. And like the lust it blurred thoughts and reason. It made the food tasteless, the time slow down considerably because the self was incomplete and desired only to be completed. Normally the process wouldn't be so exhausting because elven souls responded to one another in the wait of their bonding, but since Irony was Edain (human), nothing quieted down the call of his soul for human souls, mind and bodies worked differently.

"Don't you dare leave me, Irony, do you hear me?"he whispered into her ear as he kept undressing her back, fighting her second layer of clothes. His hands shook and his fingers were sweaty; the fabric slipped through them a few times.

"I-"

"I won't allow it." he cut, before she could start her sentence. He had not realized she was speaking. He could not yet see the wound, but he could sense something was off. Perhaps it was the sudden silence; it was as though all of a sudden every one had stopped breathing, and time had stopped. Maybe he could not hear a thing because he was too focused. His heart was beating way too fast and he could feel tears begin to form in his eyes. "I won't allow you to die. I will keep you with me, you'll be safe. Safer-"

"I. AM. FINE!" she yelled as she tried pushing him away but he had not budge. Legolas paused to look at Irony. She was frowning the way he taught adorable, all the while glaring at him. She was,indeed, fine.

Still, _he_ wasn't. He had protected her heart and head with his hands from arrows, she was shot all the same. He was unable to protect her. Again. He put her in a tight embrace. "No you are not. I am sorry." he cried into her ear as he pulled her close. He felt Irony's breathing become irregular. He was pressing her too tightly against him, crushing her lungs. "The arrow, Irony...You are not fine." He released her and pulled her slightly away from him so he could look at her in the eyes. She was "But you will be. I promise. I can do better, I can-"

Glorfindel plucked the arrow out of Irony's spine. "_What have you done, you imbecile?_!" he barked at the balrog slayer when Irony winced in pain. He brought Irony close to him again as he quickly removed the layers of the clothes he had torn earlier, and pulled the rest up in order to examine her wound.

Her back was bare for all to look upon. Her skin looked and felt thicker than Legolas remembered. He searched for the wound for a long time with both his hands and eyes. However there was no blood. No wound except for a ridiculously tiny gash. "How is this possible?" he murmured to himself. He was suddenly shot with horror; the arrow should have pierced her all the way down to the spine so maybe she was a witch after all. Maybe she had sold her soul to Sauron.

"What trick is this?" shouted Thranduil. He sounded as exasperated as dumbfounded. " What new devilry is this?"

"The arrow barely pierced the skin." said Glorfindel as he examined the item. " There is no blood on it." He said out loud. He seemed surprise by that discovery. Legolas wanted to smack him hard for that meant he had pulled the arrow out unknowing of that fact, and therefore had acted in the heart of the moment, putting Irony's life in more danger than it already was. "Irony..how?"

Irony pulled away from Legolas to sit on the floor. The prince let her do so, this time. He wasn't so sure of anything any more. He was emotionally and mentally exhausted. Every time some light was made on the mystery Irony was, he was lost a little bit more.

Without saying a word Irony slowly removed the clothes Legolas had previously made a mess of. The tunic she had been wearing fell first. Then there was the cotton undershirt. And...

"Mithril." Galdor mouthed with difficulty, before turning to Thranduil. Legolas did not know where a human could have found a mithirl shirt, and he couldn't care less about it. He was only glad she had not used unnatural ways of healing; he had simply missed it in his haste of wanting to know how badly she had been injured. He decided Irony was not a witch in the end. But he had a feeling that thought could change during the next minutes to come; the human was too full of surprises.

"_Where did you find this?" _asked Thranduil, gravely. The prince remembered something about mithril; his father had tasked him and Kili to find an agreement on the price of mithril. There had been mention of a mithril shirt having been sent to the king, but Legolas's mind had been elsewhere then, he had not paid much attention to that talk.

**(IRONY POV)**

" Inside your chambers." she answered, shrugging as though the answer was obvious. And it sort of was; where else was she supposed to have found a mithril shirt? In a kitchen down in Greytown? Nope.

She could see Thranduil's face darken by the second. She wondered how much more furious one could get.

"Liar." he spat. This insult was becoming redundant to Irony's ear. " My apartments are constantly guarded, and heavily so. You could not have gone there unseen."

"Except by using the castle's tunnels." she told him. "They link all strategical rooms of the castle together."

The king's eyes grew wide for a second, the time for him to understand where his mistake was: he had forgotten about the tunnels. They were unguarded, abandoned.

"When did you-"

"Oh, long before you arrived in my room." she cut Glorfindel. "I was left alone by the guards for quite a long time, and I figured an impenetrable shirt might come in handy some day." she explained. "Besides, why would I have affirmed the map I drew of the tunnels was more or less accurate, had I not used it before?"

No one said a word. Thranduil was pissed; he smelled of defeat and certainly did not enjoy that scent. Galdor was furrowing both brows deeply, in what seemed to be a mix of admiration and utter disappointment. Glorfindel was baffled; he probably couldn't believe Irony had omitted to tell him some of her plan's details. Legolas was grinning childishly as he held her right hand in both of his, proudly. Looking at him, Irony could not help but feel amused. There she was, surrounded by a good thousands of elves in armour, explaining to their king how she had managed to steal from him, escape his heavily guarded castle, to not be eaten by gigantic spiders, all the while the sovereign's son was finding some sort of guilty pleasure in his father having been outsmarted. Unbelievable.

"The arrow..." began Galdor. Irony had not seen him take it away from Glorfindel. "_It isn't ours. Nor is it even elven._" he told the king, worried. "_Yet, it is neither orcish nor goblins'."_

_That means s__omeone else wants me dead,_ thought Irony.

"You are _approximatively_ correct, I must say, Irony." someone answered as if they had her thoughts. She had never heard that voice in her life before. And neither had the elves it seemed for they all froze as the voice echoed through the woods. The voice was feminine, _yet_ not entirely so. It definitely was not human. It sounded elvish maybe. But it was more chanting and much more softer. And warm.

A flower infected by the forest's sickness that was standing not too far from Irony's hand, suddenly bloomed.

Irony shivered so badly her fists clenched. Only one thing made her feel so uneasy: magic. _Powerful _magic.

* * *

**A/N:**

Sorry it took me 3000yrs to updaaaate! I just got super busy plus this chapter got long, then shortened then waaayyyy to long and I wasn't sure how I wanted it to end :/ Anyhow, it's done now 8D I hoped you enjoyed it! The next chapter shouldn't take too long to be ready so no worries you won't have to wait another 3000yrs x))

I regretted not having spent more time explaining how the lust and the need for bonding work for elves so I wrote a little about it in this chapter. I am not sure if I made it clear enough since I didn't (couldn't) go in too much detail, so please let me know if you don't understand something so I can rephrase it!

**WickedGreene13:** I love that you read the books! They are great! And yes Leggy makes a wonderful king in Ithilien! I like that Tolkien decided that he would stay for a while in Middle Earth not so far from Aragorn, because I like thinking that the two of them organise wild parties in the woods during which humans and elves mingle together (Aand Gimly gets crazy drunk of course!)! If you ever have the time, try reading the Silmarillion, it is great as well :D


	38. Consumed

**Consumed**

**(Irony POV)**

"You are _approximatively_ correct, I must say, Irony." someone answered as if they had heard her thoughts. Irony had never heard that voice in her life before. And neither had the elves it seemed for they all froze as the voice echoed through the woods. The voice was feminine, _yet_ not entirely so. It definitely was not human. It sounded elvish like. But it was fer more chanting and both softer and harsher at the same time. It was comforting.

A flower infected by the forest's sickness that was standing not too far from Irony's hand, suddenly bloomed.

Irony shivered so badly her fists clenched on their own. Only one thing made her feel so uneasy: magic. _Powerful _magic.

Another flower bloomed. Then another. Then white, pink, yellow, blue and red flowers revealed their summer colours as they came back to life.

Despite undoubtedly having the biggest ego, the Elven King was the first to bend a knee . All the other elves did the same, save for Legolas who squinted his eyes out of curiosity, probably. And down on their knees, they all lowered their gaze to the ground, though, if it was to contemplate how green and alive their surroundings had suddenly become or to avert their eyes from looking at the...- the what? – ...the creature who's ghostly white feet walked on mud without being tainted by dirt? Irony was certain of only one thing, whoever that was, or whatever that was, must be very important, perhaps even feared, for King Thranduil to humble himself in front of them without hesitation.

"Death is not what we wish to bring upon you; salvation it is." explained the creature as she approached. After having gazed upon the inhuman figure's grace, and blushed with shame, Irony saw Legolas lower his head like the rest of his kin, as he knelt. She understood it wasn't submission they were showing, but respect in its highest and most honest form.

The Lady clad in a dress of light and grey silk stopped in front of Irony. She wasn't wary, she was quite relaxed, in fact. And smiling as she contemplated Irony from close, as though she was some kind of rare animal. "The world isn't perfect," she started again, her smiled saddening. Irony glanced at Legolas's feet. He always carried a dagger in his boots, she knew. She could not reach it discretely for she was too exposed to the beautiful creature's eyes, but if need be, she could reach it fast enough she gathered. "Humans may be mortal, and feel it is unfair, but they have a firm hand set on their destiny; they build their future. On the opposite, elves may be immortal, but only one path awaits them, and so before they even come to life." She looked at all the elves around. They were staring admiratively. Irony wondered if they were even listening to what the Lady was saying. "However, once in a while, a human hears the faint yet nonetheless pernicious lyrics escaping from the void, and interferes with the laws of nature." she said on a rougher tone looking straight into Irony's eyes. Irony crawled back a little to get closer to Legolas. He put a hand on her shoulder as if to comfort her. How was she supposed to relax when the Lady had just insinuated she was a hindrance? "You, have heard him, haven't you?"

"Who?" asked Irony. She supposed the creature was speaking of the Dark Knight, but then, juts in case she was speaking of someone else, it was best to pretend not to have understood of whom she was speaking.

"He who goes by many names and haunts the memory of those who remember." That was an elvish sort of answer. Irony could not help but frown.

"I know not of whom you speak." she insisted.

The Lady bent over so that her face would be close to Irony's. Irony's fingers twitched; they were ready to jump for Legolas's dagger. "The first Dark Lord." she eventually whispered. The elves must have heard for some of them made a strange dry throaty sound. The Lady stood straight again.

"Morgoth." the prince blurted out in horror, and seemingly unwillingly for he brought his hand to his mouth right after saying the word. He stared at Irony strangely for a second. "Is it true? Has he spoken to you?" he asked Irony. She furrowed both brows deeply.

"I know no one going by the name of 'Morgawtt'." she replied sharply as she glared daggers at the prince, then at the king who's hand hadpredictably travelled all the way back to the handle of the sword hanging at his belt.

"I believe you know him under the name of Dark Knight, as your people call him." insisted the Lady as she walked towards Galdor to gently take the arrow from his hands.

Irony cursed under her breath. "I have met the Dark Knight." she admitted. "But I did not know him to specifically be an elven enemy." she argued. She remembered having read about Morgoth. There was not much information about him in books, and the one time she had asked Galdor about him he had been more than reluctant to speak of him. The elves believed him to be the very incarnation of evil, from what she had gathered. Irony had not linked the Dark Knight to the first Dark Lord because she had read he was stuck in a 'void', from which he could not come back. How could he have appeared in front of her then? _Is she trying to trick me as well?_

"You did not know then, yet you knew there was no good in him." pointed out the creature. "And still you bargained with him."

"And saved two lives by doing so!" replied the human raising her tone.

"Saved?" repeated the Lady, sounding pensive. She paused for a while running her index up and down the arrow's shaft. She pointed its head towards Irony, slowly enough for it not to be alarming."You destabilized the balance of nature by changing the course of an elf's path, all the while bringing inevitable doom to yourself. Tell me, who it is that was saved then?"

"I was leaving to save him from what..." Irony paused and swallow hard. Somehow saying out loud that her humanity was slowly abandoning her felt like making it happen faster. "... whatever I am... turning into..." she whispered sadly.

"You were caught."

"At least I tried!" yelled Irony as she stood, furious. Who was that creature to stand there and judge her actions when all she had done was the best she could given the options that presented themselves to her?

Irony felt a sharp pain at the back of her neck. The next second, she heard an arrow plant itself in a tree trunk. A small trail of blood flowed down from the thin cut on her neck to her back, it made her shiver. And it made the prince stand and position himself close behind her, ready to take down the next projectile coming.

"Legolas!" Tharanduil called getting on his feet as well. He sounded angry, but Irony understood he was worried was his son. She was too, and wished she could convince the prince to step away from her, but she knew better than to argue with this elf. If whoever was setting those arrows loose was with the Lady, they must be dangerous and powerful as well. Legolas only shook his head as an answer to his father, without even glancing at him.

Knowing Legolas was protecting her – or would at least try to – did not reassure Irony one bit. _He is going to get himself killed_, she thought.

The Lady smiled.

"Mandos had warned us against who it is who protects you." she started, "Oromë tried to put an end to the song Morgoth is having you sing with an arrow, twice now." She paused. "Oromë never misses. And yet neither one hit its mark. It seems, the Dark Lord puts a lot of energy into keeping you alive."

"What-"

"He noticed you after you brought ruined upon him who you once loved. Guill, I believe is his name."

Irony went pale. Had her life been set up from then? Impossible. She would have known. Although...She had always managed to survive the most improbable situations. Perhaps it wasn't that she was unlucky, maybe the Dark Knight had set danger on her path so it would lead her to him? And maybe it wasn't the first time he protected her from mortal blows in order to ensure she would come to him. He had plans for her.

"If he set eyes on you, it is because you used your intelligence for malice, and for the fulfilment of selfish desires." the Lady replied. "But do not make the mistake of thinking you are precious to him." she quickly added, her tone becoming graver. "You were, and are no more than a promising mean to feed and regain strength so that he may gather enough power to materialize himself in more than an illusion." The creature came close to Irony. Irony did not back down, she straightened her back instead, showing no fear, as she began to think whether she should run left or right if the Lady tried something peculiar. But then Legolas took another step forward, and now stood so close behind her that if she moved he would take whichever blow would that would be directed at her.

The Lady spoke again."You have two choices before you, Irony." she said as she took Irony's right hand, and gently put the arrow in it. "Embrace death now, by this arrow; we shall make it painless, and help you find your way safely to the other side, so that the natural course of things may be restored and your soul may not be turned into darkness for Morgoth to feed on." She released Irony's hand. Irony stared at the point of the arrow, having already decided that dying was not an option. "Or," the creature went on, "You can live. Suffer. Impose to those who care for you to watch you loose yourself completely until nothing of who you are remains, and you become the dark Lord's to command."

There was a second of heavy uncomfortable silence. Then Legolas spoke in her stead, saying exactly the words she was thinking; "There _must_ be another way."

The Lady cupped his cheeks with her hands. "There is no other way, Prince of the Woodland Realm." she assured him. He pulled away aggressively, but the Lady did not seem to feel insulted by his reaction. "She was cursed by the Dark Lord himself, and the only power than can fight Morgoth's is ours." she explained. "This arrow is the only thing that may release her from his curse, and we are the only ones who may guide her to a peaceful afterlife."

"Unless," Irony found herself saying out loud as she stared at the arrow's sharp end. She broke its shaft in two under the confused gazes of people around her. She threw away the part with no sharp end, then pointed the arrow's head at her heart. Legolas wrapped his hand around it's head.

"Irony, don't." he told her, sounding dead serious, and a little forceful. He was more angry about the outcome of things than he was sad about them. There was no doubt he felt hope, he always sought the best out of the worst. "We will find another way, we still have time enough to think of som-"

Irony unwrapped his hand from around the weapon."Trust me." she told the elf. Then she turned to Galdor. The dark haired elf raised both brows understanding she was expecting something from him. "Who is the fastest rider here?" she asked.

"..." Galdor hesitated. He glanced at the king who furrowed both brows threateningly. "The moose is the fastest beast therefore...King Thranduil is the fastest rider..." revealed the Commander. "But I fail to see why-"

"Glorfindel," she cut the Commender.. "Hold Legolas still, please." she asked her friend, as she stepped away from the prince.

"_Don't you dare!_" yelled the king as he grabbed his sword. All the soldier stood and armed their bows again, pointing them toward the Balrog Slayer. Only the creature did not move. She was observing them as though she was not there. Glorfindel stood still as well, but with hesitation. Irony guessed she had found the limit of her friend's trust. She was not angry at him for that.

**(LEGOLAS POV)**

The prince's eyes widened at what Irony had ordered the balrog slayer. Then they narrowed with resolve; she had asked him to trust her, and he would, even if that was the last thing he did. "_Do as she says._" he told the Lord of the Golden Flower. Some soldiers lowered their weapons, confused. However Glorfindel still wouldn't move. "_Do it!_" ordered Legolas. "_No one shall harm you._" he added on a sharp tone as he looked at his father straight in the eyes. The king's hand shook ever so slightly probably no one else had noticed how tensed he was.

"If this does not work, I am_ very_ sorry..." Irony whispered to both Legolas and Glorfindel once the Balrog Slayer held Legolas firmly enough for him to be unable to move. "...for everything." Legolas noticed Irony's hand shook more than his father's, although she obviously tried to conceal it as well. He guessed she was scared. He was too.

"You are forgiven." he assured her."Do what you have to." he added, closing his eyes, waiting for the pain to meet his body. He wasn't sure how his sacrifice would help Irony, but he had no doubt that if she asked it of him, it was for a good reason.

"King Thranduil, my life is between your hands, at last!" Legolas heard Irony yelled sounding bitterly amused.

The prince blinked several times when he opened his eyes. "You will not-" he tried to move but the Lord of the Golden Flower was restraining him with all he had. Legolas struggled and tried hard to free himself but all that earned him was one of those wicked smiles Irony threw when she was happy and annoyed at the same time.

She stabbed herself in the womb. She neither screamed nor moaned. She was having too much to trouble breathing through the pain for that. Still she found the strength to pull the arrow out before falling on her knee, then down.

There was a lot of blood. It was black, and thick and must have been burning hot for it fumed as much as embers in a fire.

Between despair and rage, Legolas found he was unable to move. He felt sick and betrayed and had neither the strength to look nor admit to himself that he found the scene more disgusting than heartbreaking. Even then the Balrog Slayer did not release him, and that was a good thing for the prince doubted he could stand on his own two feet without help.

Legolas watched as Galdor carefully picked up the human. There was no telling if she was still conscious or not; she was making no noise nor movement despite her eyes being open. The Commender went to Thranduil and pushed the body against the sovereign's chest in order to incite him to take her. But Thranduil wasn't moving. "_What are you waiting for?_" Galdor urged the king. "_Take her and go!_" he yelled. Legolas tried to focus his blurred gaze on his father. The King seemed to have be every bit as unprepared for this turn of events. He seemed shaken, a little pale even. Legolas knew his father was passionate and had grown cold, however he had never taken pleasure in neither seeing nor making others suffer. "_THRANDUIL!_" Galdor yelled again. The sovereign must have heard him this time for he took Irony in his arms.

He stared at her greyish body for a few seconds before raising his head towards Vána questioningly. The Vala closed her eyes solemnly, and nodded. Thranduil then climbed on top of his mount and went away with the human. They had disappeared behind the trees in a few second.

Glorfindel released Legolas. Surprisingly the prince found he could stand on his own despite feeling light headed. He turned, and the sight of Glorfindel made him mad. If the elf had not held him, he could have prevented Irony from doing something so stupid. They would have had_ years_ to think of another solution. His fists closed. But before he could do anything, Vána took one of his hands in both of his. He glared at her from over his shoulder, forgetting the Vala was of good nature.

"_She was cursed through the womb. And she pierced her womb with the only one thing that could undo it._" she started. "_The wound may be deep, and the arrow powerful but neither will be mortal if she is treated fast enough._" Legolas furrowed a brow in incomprehension. "_She isn't gone yet. And should she survive the wound, the curse will be undone. Partially._"

"_Partially?_" he repeated as he turned to face her. "_You mean that even if she lives, she will be as good as dead_?"

"_Magic always comes at a price, Prince, may it be white or black magic._ " she began, ignoring how threateningly close he stood from her. "_Irony knew that. If she dies by the arrow she will be freed entirely from the curse but she will have lost her life in this world. If she had not attempted anything, chosen to live with the curse and yet still refused to fulfil the conditions of her bargain with the First Dark One, she would have become a ghoul hungry for elven and human flesh, and immortal as she was promised._" she explained. Legolas furrowed his brows deeper. Immortal? Why would she want to be immortal when he had explained to her all the downsides that said gift came along with? He bit his lips when he realised that perhaps she had done so so they could be together. "_Irony concluded that being wounded badly enough by the arrow, but surviving it, would take the away part of the curse, but prevent her from gaining all the advantages that dying from our arrow would give her._"

"_So she shall live, and not become a monster?_" asked Legolas.

"_I mean, that should she survive, she will not transform; the power transferred into her body through that arrow will not let such an unnatural thing happen. However, her implemented capacity to bear a child will be lost, and should she die, her soul shall not be saved, but consumed by Morgoth._"

Legolas's chest was filled with a complex mix of joy of horror. If she lived, Irony would not loose her mind and would be immortal, and so he would not have to watch her age and die by the hand of time. But if she ever came to die by accident or to be killed... The fëa (=soul) was of extreme importance to elves. Humans' spirits may not meet with elven spirits after death, but the thought of one's soul simply disappearing was painful. It was a tragic fate.

"_Is there nothing we can do to prevent that from happening?_" asked the Balrog Slayer. He sounded troubled. But then again every one must have been. Elves were sensitive to tempering with nature, and what had happened under their eyes, Irony's strange condition, their finding out that even from the void Morgoth could still taint their world was too much at once.

"_There will always be hope so long as she is not yet lost._" answered the Valar. Legolas understood what Irony meant when she had told him elves had their own way of giving answers. And just like she had told him, those kind of answers left quite a bitter taste in the mouth for they truly meant something and nothing at once. "_Vice was not yet at its strongest and so you shall still be tested upon the coming years._" continued Vána. Legolas's eyes widened as those words resembled the clairvoyant's. "_ Hold true to thee and the Valar may allow those you wish to accompany you where immortals dwell to follow you._" she whispered as her figure disappeared as if blown away by the sound of Valaroma.

* * *

**Valaroma** = Oröme's horn.

**Oröme:** he is one of the Valar, and is known for being a huntsman who goes after monsters and evil creatures.

**Vàna:** She is Oröme's wife and one of the Valar as well. She is know for being "ever young", beautiful and making nature thrive (flowers open when she shows up).

**Morgoth:** He is Sauron's master. He is the first saddest evil being that has ever lived. He was one of the Valar but then he turned bad and tricked Fëanor who in his turn went a bit crazy and caused the first kinslaying of the elves. Morgoth is also the one who created Balrogs, Dragons, great wolves and all the other mean creatures of Middle Eath. He is THE shit.

The legend says that one day he will find a way to get out of the void and that will cause the end of the world.

**Author's note:** There! You now know all about why Irony always finds herself into shitty situations and how come she hasn't died so far, and also what exactly she was going to turn into. Morgoth basically tricked her on every level: whichever option he gave her was no good, but I guess he can rage by himself in void until Irony dies (or not?) and he can feed on her soul as vengeance!

And poor Legolas finding out about all this shit he didn't know about at once. He doesn't even know how to react because nothing prepared him for so much..I mean because of Irony (and Morgoth) the Valar had to show themselves and tried to kill Irony. How ironic that the good ones try to commit murder for the greater good?

Thanks for all the reviews and favs, and for keeping up with the story! There is still one (maybe two) chapter to come, so stay tuned!


	39. Outran

**Outran**

**(Irony POV)**

"I am certain that it hurts from the look of it, but you should try to move as little as you can. And preferably stay on your back." said a deep voice Irony had not expected to hear first. She had regained consciousness and turned in her bed to lay in a foetal position due to the pain. It was sharp, as if someone was having fun opening her with giant needles, filling her womb with smaller needles then closing the gash and doing it all over again.

She tried to look at Thranduil in the eyes but her vision was blurred for now and all she could see was a tall human like shape, a silver blond cascade and two light blue rather scary dots. She frowned, wrinkling her nose.

"I too wouldn't have expected to find myself sitting by your side." sighed the king sounding annoyed. "I have many tasks to attend to, but it is my power that is keeping the wound from growing and covering you entirely. " he told her as he approached his chair, and and moved her so she would lay on her back again. "The healers replace me when I grow tired, they tire faster. They may be efficient at healing, but their energy do not enable them to fight such powerful darkness for long. "

"So they heal me, and you prevent the black blood from spreading through my veins? "

He nodded. Thranduil put some pillows behind Irony's back so she would be in a less horizontal position. He then pulled up the bottom of the clean shirt healers had dressed Irony with. The sight of the ugly wound caused Irony to gasp. The way she remembered it, there had only been a deep, but small hole. What she was looking at was giant gash. Closed, but badly so and seemingly infected. The skin around the wound had darkened considerably.

"It looks worse than it is. It used to be worse and smell worse." commented the sovereign as he hid the deformity under the clean shirt again. "What little of black blood that remains is acting like the poison you saved Irdhen from when you first arrived in this realm."

"So I am not immune after all." She sighed deeply wondering how bad the wound would scar."Shouldn't it be covered up?"she asked. Most wounds required to be bandaged up in order to prevent infection.

"No microbes nor virus can grow in dark blood." He assured her. "Do you wish for water again?"he asked, looking at the glasses and water put on a table further away.

The woman cocked a brow. "Again? I just opened my eyes." She replied. "But I _am _thirsty, yes." Never she would have imagined the king would offer her anything, not even just water. Yet there he was, clearly restless and wanting to go back to busying himself with realm matters, but instead he stayed there with her.

" Do not stare at me that way human." he ordered her sulking childishly. _Legolas_ _got that from you it seems, _she thought, amused. "This is already as awkward as it can get." he complained. "But I swore to protect and help _all_ of my people. And if you are..." he sighed deeply, " to bond with my son one day, then you are part of my people and I shall not let personal feelings interfere with my duty." he explained. He was silent as he poured the water in a glass and held the it so Irony could drink from it without having to move. He put the glass back where it had been and sat on his simple wooden chair. "I do not despise you, although, you may very well be my personal demon. And an immortal one at that, from what I was told." He mumbled. "But after all I have witnessed you accomplish, I would rather have you on our side than on someone else's. "

"_You_ would compliment me?! I must be hallucinating."she blurted out half laughing. She ended up cringing because of the pain.

"That was not a compliment, only a fact. You did challenge both the Valar and Morgoth and yet managed to stay alive even if..."

"'Even if' what?" She urged for he sounded like there was still something wrong.

"If you ever happened to die by accident or to be assassinated, there shall be no after life for you." he told her on a grave tone. Irony wasn't so moved as the elf seemed to be. What good was having an after life if she was immortal anyway ? She had managed not to get killed so far, and certainly even without the dark Lord protecting her she could still manage. "He will keep on sending you plagues when he can." said Thranduil as if he had heard what she had been thinking.

"Surely he'll get bored and will find himself another victim." she replied, only half serious. She wanted to move on. It had been too long since she had been free to think of something else than how hungry and thirsty she was. "Plus, I have learned my lesson, there is nothing he can say that I will take for granted or believe should he try to communicate with me again."

"He will not come to you himself, as you are mostly free of his curse, he can no longer reach you so long as you are in elven territory. "

She smiled. "I doubt Legolas will ever agree on letting me travel again any time soon then. Good thing I have all the time in world to convince him to let me." she said grinning at the king who rolled his eyes. There was a relationship she was not looking forward to work on. Still, Thranduil did not seem all that bad. Nor even all that scary sitting there crouching, tired, bored, and helping her sit and drink. But she still thought him uptight as a virgin.

They did not speak for a long time. Irony expected Legolas to come around soon. Actually she was quite surprised he wasn't there clutching on her hand like a newborn to his mother's breast. But what seems to be an hour passed and still, the prince did not come.

"Why isn't he here?" she finally asked as she ran out of patience.

Thranduil raised a brow. "He was just there, with the healers. Do you not remember?

Irony furrowed both brows. "I _just_ woke up." she reminded the king wondering if he wasn't getting too old and loosing it.

The sovereign sighed and grimaced a little. "What is the last thing you remember?"

"You showing me the gash. " she replied touching it through the fabric. It felt a lot less painful, now. Or perhaps she had grown accustomed to the pain. "Can I have some water, please?" She asked feeling her throat had gone dry.

The king put his hand on her forehead ignoring her request. His hand felt cold as a dead's limb. He growled something barely understandable in his tongue. "... _damn_ _fever_ _again_..." was all she heard before her lids became heavy and closed.

Irony opened her eyes. There was a bed table nearby on which was put a glass and a jar filled with water. She thought it was kind of the elves to have brought it closer so she could reach it by herself, but wished they would have closed the widows so the mist wouldn't have come in.

"Thirsty? " asked a chilling voice. She looked up. The Dark Knight was sitting on a simple wooden chair near the bed, where Thranduil had been what felt like seconds ago. Attempting to crawl back on her bed, Irony reopened her wound, and the clean fabric of her shirt stuck to it, sucking the blood in.

The ex-Vala grabbed the glass of water, took a sip then handed it to the woman. "No?" He asked when she did not move to take it. "So be it." He shrugged and put it on the bed table and laid back on his chair, crossing his legs.

"What do you want?" Irony managed to ask.

The one the elves called Morgoth smiled as he shifted position to put his elbows on his knees. "Healing, I see..." he stated. "The elves were always better at fixing and building things than at destroying them." he told her, sounding bored.

"What, do you want?" she insisted.

The Dark knight sighed. "You are no longer so chatty, are you? It matters not. The rain will soon fall and my powers shall be restored." He stood and sat on the bed side, close to Irony, before delicately slipping a hand under her shirt and putting his hand on her womb. Irony closed her eyes expecting to feel pain of any sort. But if anything, she felt a comforting warmth go through her from where his hand was, and it soothed the dolour caused by the gash. When he broke contact, Irony was no longer bleeding. She even wondered if she was still hurt but she was not going to check that while the manipulative being was still in the room. How had he even come here ? Hadn't Thranduil said he could not reach her here ?

Morgoth cupped Irony's cheeks and kissed her forehead almost tenderly. It made her shiver. She had the feeling that something at some point would go very wrong, if it hadn't already gone wrong. "You served me well, and did all that was expected from you." He kissed her forehead again. "Thank you." He said smirking before leaving the room through the door, without closing it, as if he had all the rights to be there.

When the door closed, Irony tried to stand but for some reason she couldn't. It felt like her legs were being held tight against the mattress on which she sat. She wanted to free her legs from the invisible hands restraining her but her arms were like stuck as well. Her breathing fastened as she began to panic. Morgoth was just there and now she couldn't move. She tried to scream for Legolas, for Glorfindel, for someone, any one but no sound came out of her mouth. She could not move, she could not call for help, and she could not even comprehend what was happening for she could see whatever was restraining her.

The door opened but she saw no one enter. She did hear voices though. Voices she did not recognize speak gently to her. Then she began to feel hands touching her here and there as if to examine her. She kept her eyes locked on the door terrified at the idea that Morgoth would come back and do something to her. But all there was at the door was an elfling staring at her, seemingly as afraid as she was. The little girl had long raven black her and eyes just as dark. Irony wondered if the child could see who was handling her and what exactly they were trying to do with her.

The elfling's eyes moved from Irony to somewhere over her, as if she was looking at a face. The elfling leaving and closing the door behind her was the last thing Irony saw before suddenly feeling herself go.

"Shh," she heard. "Calm down, Irony, all is well." Someone was petting her on the head. "Wake up." he kissed her hand, which he had been holding too tightly to Irony's liking. "Wake up."

She opened her eyes and mentally exhausted she began to sob, as she opened her arms for Legolas to take her in his. And he did; he wrapped his arms around her happily, and so tightly Irony had push him away a little.

**(LEGOLAS POV)**

"It's not over." she warned him, trying to keep her cool despite the tears. "He came here! He was sitting on the chair. That chair!" She pointed at it." Then I couldn't move, s-someone was holdi- _YOU!" _she yelled at someone who must have been standing behind him.

A loud noise of glass shattering rung in the room.

Legolas pulled out completely from Irony's arms to look behind him. One of the healers' children was there. The one who hid around the house of healing all the time. Rossiriel she was called, if memory served him right. She must have been drinking from the glass on the bed table until Irony scared her by yelling. The elfling had spilled water all over her dress and was biting her lips as if waiting to be scolded for having committed some terrible crime.

"You have seen them, haven't you?" asked Irony grabbing the child's arm not so friendlily. The woman was frantic. The elfling squirmed and whined and set herself free to run out of the room crying for her father.

Legolas wondered if all the spacing out, fainting and artificial sleep had not only made Irony loose track of time but also made her loose her mind. Or perhaps her condition was not as good as the healers thought it was. He checked her forehead to feel if she still had a fever, but she was cool. He had not been too worried. Until now, Irony had only gotten better and better, and during the short lapses of time she had been conscious – although she had been in this bed for more than a week now and never remembered that she had woken up before – she had never missed a chance of making use of her sarcastic humour.

The prince thought taking things slowly was the best thing he could do now. Sleeping for so long definitely must not have been good for her. "Irony, who is 'he', who are you talking about?" he asked as he cupped her cheeks. She pulled out of his touch immediately, as if he had burned her.

"Morgoth, who else?!" She snapped back, sitting up and removing the covers on the top of her. She was so energetic one could not guess she had even been ill. "I know your father said he couldn't come here, but he _did_." she assured him. "He sat there and thanked me fo-"

Legolas stood, and put a hand on each side of Irony's head so she would stop moving about and look at him. "Irony listen to me," he started. "There was never anyone else in this room than my Father, Glorfindel, myself and the healers. No one else." he assured her. "If Morgoth had manifested himself here, the two guards outside of this door," he pointed at the only one door of the square room, "would have felt it. My Father would also have felt it, and he would have intervened. It must have been a nightmare."

"Then how do you explain the girl!?" she asked him. "This is not the first time I have seen her, and I know it." she insisted. She was always convinced she was right. But then again, she was more often right than wrong. "I couldn't but she saw them. She saw whoever it was that held me to the bed while the others...they..." Irony did not finish her sentence. From the expression the prince could read on her face, she had no real idea of what '_they'_ had done to her."

Legolas sat near her. "The girl must have come in some other time when you were awake. It is good you remember having seen her, it means your memory is coming back." Irony glared him. He felt compelled to do something about it."I will talk to the girl if that reassures you, but I am certain it was nothing." he added. "Only a bad dream, Irony. You have had others involving..._him,_ while you healed. Do you remember those?" Irony shook her head, and pushed him away from her. She was never as touchy as he was, but still, it annoyed him that she would deny him even doing so much as comforting her when she clearly needed it. She brought her hand to her temples as if her head hurt. "Does it hurt?" he asked. "It is normal, you have not been conscious for this for a long enough time." he told her.

Sighing and running her hand through her hair Irony suddenly seemed to remember something. Agitated and in a rush she pulled up her shirt and stared at where her injury used to be. She seemed surprised to find there was no wound there, only a scar. A thin white line of skin. "It was not in my head, Legolas." she told him. "I don't know how, but he came- appeared here. The same way he appeared to me the first time." Legolas had to admit her insisting was rather concerning for if she was telling the truth that would mean that either Morgoth had already regained enough strength to hide his presence or that the power of the shadow of the east had grown considerably masking Morgoth's aura. Still, perhaps it was only that she was confused. If there was one thing was certain of, it was that Irony needed to get out of this room and feel the sun a little, walk, see something else than the four walls she had been confined into. "He healed it completely..." she whispered, speaking to herself.

"No, the healers did. And they told me I could wake you because it had closed as neatly as possible and would not re-open, nor cause you any more fevers." he told her. She seemed dubious. Not wanting to encourage her to speak more of Morgoth some more for it reinforced her delusion, he changed the subject. "Come, let me take you out of this room. There is another one waiting for you." he told her grinning. He wondered if she knew where he wanted to take her. She probably did not know, but one could never be too sure with Irony.

"Is that your attempt to change the subject, elf?" she complained. "You are terrible at this." she added shaking her head, smirking. Although he had probably not convinced her she had only had a bad dream, he was glad she was willing to at least try being merrier for him. "Where will you be dragging me then?" she asked, as she stood. He helped her stabilize herself for she had not stood on her legs for along time and they shook from the lack of use.

"Dragging?" he repeated, slightly offended. "You speak as though I am about to pull on your arm like a mad man."

"Well, aren't you going to hold my hand and begin to run not minding that my legs are shorter than yours? You do that all the time when you are excited!" she exclaimed, mocking him. Perhaps she knew him _too_ well.

"I am beginning to think you were sweeter when you were sleeping." he growled. Her smirk only grew wider, and her nose wrinkled. It softened his sulky mood, and so kissed her on the nose. "Besides, you are wrong, " he started again. "I shall not 'drag' you anywhere." he informed her, exaggerating on his accent in common speech. " I shall _carry _you there so you little legs won't be outran by long ones!"

* * *

**A/N:**

Sorry I didn't update sooner, I wanted to rewrite and submit _When the Rain fell down_ (It's the sequel to _Sweet Irony_, but with Ross, the efling mentioned in this chapter, and Glorfindel as pairing. Gondolin better hold on tight! How can an elfling from this era get to burned downed Gondolin, you ask? Well read and see! )

So in the end there is at least another chapter to go. I only wrote down the main lines of what will happen next so maybe they'll be two chapters instead of just one, I don't know yet!

I am glad I got to write about Legolas and Irony being together again, I kinda missed that And I loved making Thranduil go all daddy with Irony because he has to and not because he wants to, he is a sweet heart when he wants to be. I ought to write some Thrandy/OC someday!


	40. Measuring dic-ears! EDITED

**Part one: Measuring dic-ears**

**(Irony POV)**

"This is your new room!" exclaimed the prince as he uncovered Irony's eyes. Before she had gotten the chance to give the room a good look, the prince had taken her hand hostage again and was dragging her towards the balcony saying; "And on the other side of that wall, there is...mine!" he exclaimed again, grinning like a proud child. "I have had all of my belongings moved here the very day you were shot." he started again. "I wanted to make sure everything would be ready for when you would be let out of the infirmary." Irony raised a brow at him. It was a rather unexpected behavior of him to make plans for when she would recover when she it had probably been more likely than she would have died. But judging by how tight he was holding on her hand now, she guessed he must have done so because he had probably not wanted to think she would die. She squeezed his hand to warn him that he crushing hers with his inappropriate elven strength, and perhaps also to make sure all this was real.

It sure felt real. His hand felt real, his enthusiasm definitely was, and the state of his new room as well. Some tunics, that she supposed, he had not had the time to put away were cleanly folded on bed and arranged by colours. What looked like a ceremonial robe that could possibly belong to his father was laid out on the bed. There was two dirty pair of brow boots at the entrance, a pile of books and parchment were laid out on the desk in a tiny chaos topped by a circlet she had seen him wear before.

"It's messy. _You_ are messy." she said, wanting to tease him a little. "Well, for an elf anyway." she added when she remembered the state of each of room she had ever lived in; they had always looked like a warg and a troll had thrown a party in it. She was suddenly very glad they each had a room, and that they were so close, for once her personal space would be invaded by dirty clothes, food rests and bugs, she would not have to sleep among all that filth.

"Well, I am not done with the cleaning just yet." he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"And it's also sort of tacky." she half laughed staring at the velvet colour of the fluffy carpet under the bed. The pillars were also carved to look like trees with leaves and flowers of marble. If she was being honest, although they had clearly carved by expert hands, the fact that they were in a bedroom just made it look ridiculous.

The elf made another growling sound, although judging by his expression he agreed with her. "These rooms were meant for my father," he explained. "For when he would have chosen a mate, and if that happened before he was crowned." He kept going, "However his father, King Oropher, died before my father and mother exchanged rings; so he never occupied them. He was crowned and moved to the king's rooms directly." Irony wondered why all elven stories were tragedies. She had not heard of one elf who did not had a sad family or personal story to tell. "But my mother slept in your new rooms, once, I am told." he began again as he headed there, still holding her hand, so she would follow. No doubt he did so because he did was embarrassed of the tiny mess in his bedroom. "When she moved in, she was settled in the Queen's room. And every time my father would annoy or anger her, she would leave her room to go sleep in one of the many others of the castle so that when my father would seek her at night or the morning he could not find her." He laughed. "I am afraid you will not be allowed to wander alone at night as preventive measure from danger. There will be no avoiding me when I annoy you." he added, trying to make all of it sound innocent. Still, Irony would have argued about those restrictive preventive measures if she wasn't actually glad they were set. For now at least.

"When you'll annoy me, I will sleep naked in your bed and make that grinding sound you dislike, with my teeth, every time you try to touch me."

"Ah," he exhaled. "My father was right!" he exclaimed. "So long as females exist the world need no demons!" That earned him a not so friendly tap on the arm. But as usual, it had no effect on him. Irony noted that pinching might be more efficient for the next time he would say something so silly.

"Was this her, you mother?" she asked changing the subject, as she turned to look at the portrait on the back wall. It was strange thinking she would sleep in a room that had only ever been occupied once, and so by Thranduil's wife, who must have been angry at him at the time. She wondered how a woman could ever put up with such an elf to the point of agreeing to bear his child. Not that the king was entirely detestable. No, Irony was even certain he was packed with good intentions. Still, the path to hell is paved with good intentions, as they say, and he was one of the main reasons why she had almost died. Although, without him stopping her in the elven woods, the Valar may never have come to her. And without him carrying her on his moose she would have been plain cold by now. She rubbed her temples, the character was too confusing, and she didn't want to catch a headache and be put back to bed again.

The prince nodded. Irony could see the resemblance between them. It wasn't so much about them having the same features – Legolas looked much more like his father than he did his mother – but more in the facial expression. They both looked kind hearted and had that sort of innocence showing in her eyes. "She was beautiful." _but then I doubt they are ugly elves... "_She seems...not to be your father's type." she added somewhat hesitantly. For some reason she had pictured Thranduil's wife to be blond, of course, and she was, but with a _bitchy_ face. She had imagined the king's type to neither be so gentle and normal looking.

"And how would you know what my father's type is?" replied the elf confused and frowning.

"Clearly, I _don't_ know about it." she assured him. His frown disappeared. "I had simply thought he was into...rougher characters and-"

"Oh, please say no more!" the prince interrupted, grimacing disgracefully. " I fear to hear where this conversation is going, and I am quite certain you were about to say something I wish to never ever speak of."

Irony laughed out loud. "You do realize your father and mother had to..you, make you-"

"Please-" he interrupted her again. "Please, please, stop! I am begging you!" Irony laughed some more. She realized how long it had been since the last time she had actually been able to think about something else than survival. Too long. It felt good. It made her feel lighter.

" You know, your father, I think he said that he did not despise me."she started again as Legolas went to straighten the portrait. "But maybe I was dreaming." she added, unsure if that had truly happened? It had felt real. Still as far as she knew Melkor had felt real too but hadn't been, according to the prince.

"He does not despise you, although I won't lie-" he paused as he gave the painting a final readjustment, "He does not like you." he admitted. Irony had no doubt Thranduil has spoken his mind about her to Legolas. And she was certain as well that while it had been happening the prince had nodded now and then, ignoring everything that was said to him. "But he will in due time, I am sure." he took her hands in his. "When he knows you like I do." She saw him bend down a little so she leaned forward, expecting a kiss. But nothing happened and the prince withdrew. Eyes squinted and brows dubiously furrowed he stared at her in silence for a few seconds. "Because I know everything there is too know about you, don't I?" he finally asked. Irony rolled her eyes. "There are no more secrets left, are they?" he insisted, drawing her to him when she tried to get away from him.

"No." she mouthed, making the simple word sound like terrible complaint. "None I can think of." A_t least none that will catch to me here, _she thought but did not say. There was no need to alarm the elf by telling him about enemies she had met before their paths had crossed. "Does your father know I whored ?"

Legolas was hugging her and so she could not see his face, but Irony knew he was grimacing. "I meant no more secret between us two _only_." he cleared. "Although you may torture my father and tell him whatever you wish after we have-"

"_The dress!_" an elleth yelled as she jerked open the door. Irony jumped back in surprise, then glared at the elleth who had almost caused her to die of a heart attack. "_The dress!_" she exclaimed excitedly again. "_The dress, young prince, it is ready._" she said. Irony guessed the ageless elleth must have been much older than Legolas for most people usually referred to him as 'his grace' or 'my lord'. "_And the banquet as well,_" she started again after having caught her breath. "The food_will be served soon._" She turned to Irony, and gave her a bright smile. "_My lady._" she called as she bowed courteously. "_I am glad to see you are well._" By now the human was half certain she was dreaming. "_Is the room to your taste?_" asked the elleth. But she kept going without giving time for an answer to be given. "_I insisted on that the colour should be changed from grey to orange, it is much happier colour, I think._" She turned to Legolas again as she put both hand on her hips and began to shake her head in disapproval. "_However neither the prince nor the King would listen. It is like both of them have bees in their ears, preventing them from hearing a thing we say. But only when they disagree_." She sighed. "_It is good there will finally be a woman to take things in charge here. We're all glad_."

With that the elleth laid the dress on the bed, bowed and left as quickly as she had come.

"What- was that?" asked Irony pointing at the door. She felt like every one had lost their mind. Since when were the Mirkwood elves so kind to her?! Had they been struck by lightening while she had been sleeping?! No. That could only have made them less friendly than they were. The most logical explanation was that she was still sleeping. This was a dream. A sweet, sweet dream.

"People are happy." replied the prince, shrugging as if everything was normal. It wasn't.

"Are you joking, elf?!" she exclaimed. "The last time I was standing, half of your kingdom had arrows to my throat." she barked as she now angrily pointed at her throat. "And suddenly they are all smiles and manners, and you expect me to believe they are actually _glad_ I am here?" She paused. "You do realize my dinner will have poison in it, don't you?"

Legolas chuckled a little. As he sat down the bed, or rather, lazily let himself fall on it. "No one will attempt to do so much as glare at you." he assured her. "Half of them are now convinced you are favoured by Eru." he said. His tone made it clear he didn't believe the same. She could not blame him; a person favoured by a god probably did not find themselves in situations in which bargaining with the devil sounded like a good plan. "And so long as my father welcomes you here, the others will make sure you to treat you as well as a noble Lady at the very least." he added. Probably noticing that she was nowhere near convinced, he added, "I shall taste your food if that reassures you," he started as he grabbed her hand and brought her to him again, making her sit on his laps. "Though I would much rather taste yo-"

Irony put her hand on his mouth before he could kiss her neck. "Keep your pants on, elf." she warned. "We will not be doing anything of the sort before you have talked to that child. I need to know what has been done to me first." she told him. He sighed, then buried his face in the crook of her neck. She closed her eyes to enjoy the hug as she slipped her fingers through his soft blond hair. It smelled of fresh pine and wild berries.

When he opened her eyes again, she saw the dress. She stared at it for while. It was long, with a trail behind. The sleeves started only at the shoulders, so her neck and chest would be reasonably exposed.

"Do you like it?" she heard Legolas ask.

Irony did not dislike it. It was pretty. Royally. And definitely better looking that the ridiculous dresses with corsets and ribbons she had worn so far. She nodded. Then bent to grab it and feel the fabric. "How is it so shiny?"

"Silver threads and Lasgalen gems." answered Glorfindel, startling both Legolas and Irony as he arrived from the balcony behind them. "They can only be found in Eryn Lasgalen. Thranduil had it made for you, thinking it would be more becoming for the ceremony."

"Knocking and announcing oneself is commonly appreciated in this kingdom." complained the prince.

"I knocked on your door. No one answered, so I let myself in." explained the balrog Slayer.

"What ceremony?" finally intruded Irony, ignoring the elves bickering. She had thought that the both of them would get along better now, after having had to care for her together. But it seems that some friendships were simply not meant not be.

"He has not told you about tonight?" asked Glorfindel staring fixedly at the younger elf. Avoiding the confrontation, the prince buried his face in the crook of Irony's neck again. But indignated by the situation, Glorfindel insisted."Has no one truly told her?

"I have!" replied Legolas not bothering to look up. "I told her." His arms tightened around Irony, who was getting impatient. "She...hasn't remembered yet." Irony pat her prince's back to comfort him, and shook her head to tell Glorfindel to let the matter go. The Lord of the Golden Flower sighed but did not say another word although he seemed to still have plenty to say. She guessed what she had forgotten was important.

"Now boys if you are done measuring dic- ears, can someone please explain what is going on?"

* * *

**Part two: To disrespect it**

* * *

**(Irony POV)**

As expected the dress fitted her perfectly. Elves truly were artists when it came to the making of pretty things. However, feeling pretty did not give Irony all the confidence she had hoped it would have.

"Was doing this in front of the whole kingdom necessary?" she whispered for Thranduil only to hear as she squeezed his arm.

"He is a prince; he belongs to the people." he whispered back, not looking at her, and not slowing down as he lead Irony by the arm through the alley paved by flower. "Could it be that you are having second thoughts?" he asked sounding almost happy about it.

Irony would have merrily tackled him and watch him fall from his high height with delight and excitement, but that would have ruined the moment for Legolas, so she contained herself. "Not. One." she replied, this time looking in the king's blue eyes.

During the rest of the crossing of the King's Garden, they were both silent as the people bowed when they walked past them. From what Irony was told by Glorfindel when he had hurriedly explained the ceremonial process to her, there was no celebration as merry and beautiful as woodeleven royal betrothal. He had not lied. The whole kingdom was attending and dressed richly with pearls and gems for the event. They all looked overly exited and joyful as they waved and smiled and threw flowers over her head. There were singers as well. The voices together with the sound of the harps, lutes, flutes, fiddles, clarinets and big as a dwarf viols was enchanting and more cheerful and lively than she had expected elven music could be. There would be dancers too, and recited poetry the Balrog Slayer had promised.

Once the alter was only a few meters away, the king stopped, and they waited. As they waited Irony stared at Legolas. For once his hair was not braided but simply pulled back, with a silver circlet keeping everything in place. He was wearing black pants on top of which was a robe that went from black at the bottom to with at the top, in the very same manner the dress she wore, and with the same gems embroided on it. He was as nervous as she was; she knew he enjoyed standing out in public about as much as he enjoyed being hit by orcs. He was nonetheless smiling. And it was not one of those forced smiles people put on when they had to smile at this uncle or that aunt that they disliked. No, it was a real smile, shy, full of excitement and anticipation.

(**Legolas POV)**

Legolas wondered if his nervousness was apparent to other people. He hoped it wasn't. He also hoped he did not seem to eager to see the ceremony begin. Or rather end. He could not wait until all was said and done and he could retire in the intimacy of his rooms with his betrothed.

As he waited for Glorfindel, who would give Irony's hand away her father's stead, to bring his bride to him he could not help but fidget. Things were not going fast enough for him. Although, they may be going too quickly for Irony. After all she had just woken up that she was being thrown into her own betrothal. Still, she had agreed to it when Legolas had proposed. He remember very well how it had all happened. She was weak then, but she was awake, and he had been holding her hand too. He had told her that he wanted them to marry the very day she would be back on her feet. She had laughed out loud at first, thinking he was telling a joke. Eventually she understood he was serious and declined the offer saying that she would gladly stay with him but would not take it upon herself to have him bond with her and so doing be fully responsible of his well being. But then he came to visit again and she held his hand with her shaky one and _she_ proposed, no doubt having forgotten the previous demand. She had said " You're pretty and I am smart, we make a good team".

After that the rest had been formalities and negotiations with father and the council of the real as to what place a human could have in an elven kingdom. Thranduil would have taken care of mostly everything regarding the preparation of the ceremony if Legolas had not insisted on approving of everything. They had been tough days, going out during the day to hunt spiders, coming back home at night to taste all sort of food, look at all sort of jewels ad flowers arrangement and fitting for his robe as well as organizing political dinners to reassure the nobles on Irony's intentions and future implications in the realm's matters. As much was expect from a queen than from a king. She would not be queen yet, thankfully, because there was a lot she would have to learn first about elven history, customs, languages, ethnicities, relationship, foreign politics. And there was also a lot they expected to learn from her about humans when it came to their physical condition, frailty, way of thinking and everything else. The council hoped that maybe her presence would be helpful when engaging negotiations with the people of Laketown, who were ever so demanding and not so inclined to give back. All in all Legolas did not have to pledge his case for long before everyone approved of his choice. His father still had issues with the race and person he had chosen but did not wish to be so strict as Oropher had been to him and so he gave his consent nonetheless. Still, there was one condition; they had to follow the eleven traditions of marrying thus the organization of a grandiose buffet.

The king gave Irony's arm to Glorfindel who walked her down the isle. Irony was never beautiful. Regardless, Legolas did not find anyone else half as appealing. He had never quite understood why he loved the way she looked as mush as the way he loved who she was. She certainly had none of the eleven grace although he was no longer so ill-mannered as she used to be. Her nose was still crooked, her hair way too short for elven standards, her eyes too far apart and her lower lips too plump compared to the upper on. And yet he wouldn't change a thing on her face. It was just the way it was meant to be and just the way he liked it. And the dress she was wearing may have been gorgeous and distracting but there was nothing else he wanted to focus on than her face. It was unclear weather she was nervous or annoyed – she probably was annoyed because she was nervous – but it didn't matter much to Legolas: her reaction amused him, like it often did. Was there ever anything more precious than a moment like this one? The prince doubted it.

Glorfindel presented himself to him, then the bride. They were still not allowed to touch yet, and so Legolas contented himself with looking at her. She was staring right back, and as always her mischievous gaze made hims feel shy and young.

It was usually the King who married two elves, but as he was to stand by Legolas side as part of the ceremony, it was Glasdur who performed the ceremony. He was one of the elves that used to be part of the council when Oropher first created it. But much like the others of the old council, he had stepped down a few decencies after Thranduil had become king, to retire and search for peace. He was well known and well loved by the king and his people. There was no link of blood between him and Legolas, but the prince considered him the grandfather he did not have.

Elegantly clad in white and grey, Glasdur recited his speech as if he had done so many times before. "(...) _thus the pater and mater of the concerned may express their demands or regrets now, for once the silver rings are exchanged, they can only be given back by the persons who received them, and no pressure from them shall be tolerated_."

Legolas had asked Thranduil in advance if he would have any opposition of demand to make. His father had only replied that he 'shall wait and see'. And so Legolas was afraid that the king would be unfair to the woman in public.

"_Aye._"said the king as he stepped towards Irony. Demands were common from a parent to a betrothed before the exchange of the rings. Still, they were rarely made on the very day of the betrothal ceremony and therefore the crowd went silent and curious. Irony seemed neither surprised nor scared by the intervention. If anything she looked determined, and Legolas knew she would take great pleasure from granting anything the king would ask her, even if only to inconvenience him. "I would ask of the future bride that she holds sacred and for law her vows from the moment she tells them." he said in the common tongue.

Irony did not answer right away. And neither would have Legolas; he was not quite sure his father was finished. Yet, surprisingly, he was.

"I shall respect your will." answered the human.

"Then I wish you luck, happiness and to see your silver ring exchanged for a golden one in a year." that said The king and the woman bowed to each other, and Thranduil gave Legolas the silver ring he would soon have to slip around Irony's finger. Until now, the prince had not seen the ring for he had been told not to bother have a new one made. And he understood why: the ring was exactly the same as his mother's. Of course it was not the one Thranduil had given his wife for the rings exchanged during the ceremony were to never be worn ever again by anyone else once they were taken off to wear the final golden rings that represented the union of two elves, but it was a perfect copy. It was simple, as customs wanted it to be, with minuscule crystals encrusted in it.

Legolas' attention was brought back on what was happening around him when standing in front of him Glorfindel said "_Aye._" That, he had not prepared for. "I would ask of the future groom that he serves and protects his the future wife from all sorts of perils from the moment he speaks his vows." The Balrog Slayer sounded terribly serious, and yet the prince wondered if this was a farce. Protecting Irony was all he wanted to do, with his life if need be. That said, it did not mean that the task would be easy. The foxy woman had a history of personally offending the wrong people.

Not wanting to promise something he was absolutely certain he could honour, the prince found there was no better answer to give than the following _"_I shall respect you will, in the measure that my future wife allows me to."

The Lord seemed satisfied enough with that answer for he was well aware of the sorts of predicaments Irony could found herself in. "Then I wish you luck, happiness and to see your silver ring exchanged for a golden one in a year."

(**Irony POV)**

They bowed to one another, and Glorfindel gave her a sliver ring. He had told her that he taken the liberty of having it made on her behalf since she had been indisposed. Irony was glad her friend had taken the initiative; she doubted she could have come up with the design of anything so simple and yet so beautiful.

She was preoccupied about Thranduil and Glorfindel having said 'in a year'. What was that supposed to mean? Why didn't they simply exchange golden rings now? They had already been through all the things that could have parted them, so why wait?

"_As approval as been given by pater and mater,_" the officiant started again, " _The lovers may make their first pledge to their significant other._"

Irony remembered that her friend had told her not to move when the officiant would say that, for first, Thranduil and him should join Legolas's hand and hers together. And so she waited, feeling useless. Glorfindel took her left hand in his right, and Thranduil did the same with Legolas. The two fatherly figures joined the betrothed's hands together and did not let go of them until Legolas and Irony had intertwined fingers, as it was the custom. Finally, Legolas presented the ring to her and said the words he had been trained to repeat when he was a child "_ The day has come that my heart tells me I should wed, and it calls your name. If you will accept me, accept this ring as gage of my love, and to let your people know what fate you have chosen._" he paused, for a second. He was trembling. But it was clear that it was no longer with nervousness, but with agitation. "_What say you_?"

Irony took one last deep breath before reciting what she had been told to say. "_I accept you, and thus the ring you offer me." Once the elf had slipped the ring around her finger, she started again. " The day has come that my heart tells me I should wed, and it calls your name._" she paused trying to remember what came next. She wished the ceremony would have been held in current Sindarin, which she understood and could manage to speak, unfortunately it was in ancient Sindarin which sounded quite different. If Glorfindel had not translated it to her a few hours ago, she would not even know what it was she or anyone else was saying. "_If you will accept me, accept this ring as gage of my love, and to let your people know what fate you have chosen. What say you?_"

"_I accept you, and thus the ring you offer me_." the elf replied.

Hands still joined, at the signal given by the officiant, they both turned to the people and the prince exclaimed "Ai onron adh onril! Ai muindyr a muinthil! Ai meldir a meldis! Bestathangid na veth min în! "

The music, exclamations and good wishes began to roar again, louder than it had been before. Taking advantage of the noise, Irony pulled on Legolas's sleeve so he would bring his attention to her. "What did that last sentence mean? Am I expected to say it as well?" she asked.

Legolas shook his head. "I said: Hail father and mother! Hail brothers and sisters! Hail male-friends and female-friends! We two will bond at the end of one year!"

"One year?!" exclaimed Irony trying not to catch too much attention. She could see the amusement in the elf's eyes. His smug smiled grew wider when she furrowed her brows. She guessed it was because her nose was wrinkling. "I hope they have plans for chastity belts then, because without one I do not see how they can expect any of the both of us to just.. stare at each other for another year!"

"It is the tradition." he offered to calm her down a little. Then his grin grew even wider. "But as my father did not respect it, I have every intention and right to disrespect it as well. " _After all, all I promised was that the ceremony would be performed the elven way._

* * *

**A/N**: So in the end it made more sense that both those two parts would go together! The third part though will be more..well, I'll guess you'll see!

Komakipureblood: I am glad you lived it as a nightmare, it is exactly what I wanted it feel like!

WickedGreene13: The sequel will be 90% Glorfindel/Ross and 10% Irony/Legolas (their role will be important for the story though, but they won't appear in the first chapters). Still, I think you'll get quite a good idea of what goes on in their life after everything in this fic even if they won't appear that often!

Thank you all for reading everyone!


	41. Technically, this is goodbye

**'Technically', this is goodbye**

**(Irony POV)**

Irony's eyes shut open. She squinted both of them and examined her surrounding despite her blurry vision. She was _still _in that cursed room in the healing quarters. The exact same poorly furnished and lighted square room. She sat and frown contemplating how frustrated she was by this whole situation.

"Another one of those nightmares?" came Glorfindel's soft voice, as he stood from the chair to sit by her side on the bed. He was wearing his full armour, just like the day he had arrived in Mirkwood. Judging by the pockets under his eyes, he had probably been fighting off spiders recently and neglected to rest. His armour was spotless though, and so was he._Elves..._

"Much worse." She replied frowning deeper. Glorfindel furrowed his brows with concern. "Just a regular dream. But the kind you feel _really_ embarrassed for having." She giggled loudly and let herself fall back on the pillow. _A wedding? Really? s_he mentally scolded herself for having had a dream a five years old might have.

"Do you remember what happened?"

Irony shook her head.

"You fainted when Legolas had you stand up."

Irony growled. "I thought the damned black blood was out of my system?!" she inquired. How long would this nonsense go on. It already seemed like forever since she had been outside. The worse of it was not being able to tell when truth became illusion, or nightmares - if that's what they were. The whole ordeal was more frustrating everyday that passed. Perhaps she should have stabbed herself in the heart with that arrow. Then it would all have been over.

But then again a few days of blacking out here and now were a small price to pay for immortality, she reflected.

"We had thought that what little remained inside you was harmless. Obviously we were wrong." sighed the Balrog Slayer, shaking his head. "We have drained it all out of you, this time." he told her, pointing at her right wrist. It was bandaged. Now that he had mentioned it, the cut stung a little. "You will feel weak, and dizzy for a days or two. But you are entirely free of black blood now. You should recover quickly." he added, smiling his reassuring smile of his.

His smile was a little too sad though. _Strange, _thought Irony. Helping herself with her hands she sat again and stared thoroughly at the elf. Up and down went her eyes. He was slouching a tad more than he usually was, and his hands were nervously playing with the tip of his cape. Irony's eyes narrowed. Something was wrong. Again. "Spit it out!" she yelled at him.

Caught off guard, Glorfindel let go of cape. The elf's mouth opened and closed without producing a sound. Then like a fish, he did it again and again. Irony could feel herself growing more annoyed by the second. She wondered if she would ever live through a whole week without something bad or disturbing happening. "Is it that bad?" she asked, encouraging him to speak. The elf hesitated a bit, then shook his head. "Is it Legolas?" The elf shook his head and rolled his eyes, confirming that the prince and him still only just tolerated one another. Irony squinted her eyes; if it wasn't a bad news, and if it wasn't about Legolas then... "Let me guess, the king has banned me?"

The vanya shook his head yet again. "He has been surprisingly cooperative concerning your safety. If not out of respect for his son then out of respect for you." Glorfindel shrugged. "One can never tell why Thranduil does anything. He is a compl-"

"You're ranting, elf." she snorted. "I was out for long enough to still be kept in the dark now. So Glorfindel, please, speak!" Her friend's gaze dropped to his hands. "You looking at me with sad eyes and with your armour on is starting to worry me. It's almost like you're about to say goodbye and leave me here." Reality settled in. "You _are _abandoning me here, aren't you?!"

"Abandoning is a strong word." he replied. "And it implies that I find some peace in parting from you, when in truth it unsettles me quite a bit." he admitted. "I am not too confident in what shall happen to you next if you stay here. I mean...Thranduil is more than able and powerful enough to protect you. But I fear that may not be enough to keep you out Morgoth's aim. And since the shadow of the east was his-" He suddenly paused as if he had almost said something he shouldn't have. "My point is," he started again, "Lord Elrond, Rivendel's Lord, may be more suited to look after you. I am certain now that he has sent me here with the purpose of taking you back with me." Irony wrinkled her nose wondering how that Elrond Glorfindel spoke of could have known she would be in Greenwood. And if he had known that, then why had he not told Glorfindel what would happen so he could have helped and saved everyone some time. "He is more powerful than the elven king thanks to the rin-." He paused again and cleared his throat. "He is more powerful than Thranduil. For now." Worry showed on the vanya's face. "Him and his people have had dealings with your kind before. They shall treat you more kindly than the wood elves. And, I'll be there to keep an eye on you."

Irony sat straight. "You seem more worried than need be. So I am guessing there is something you are not telling me." She raised a brow and waited for a response.

The elf shifted uncomfortably. After searching for his words for a long time, he rubbed his temples. "Irony...this is...beyond complicated. And there is very little I can tell you -or any one else about that matter. Just know that what you choose to do next may determine more than just your own future."

"I am not going to decide whether I am leaving or staying here without knowing the whole story." she declared firmly. Acting blindly was what idiots who wanted to get killed did. And she'd been a couple of times too many close to death already. "And why would what I choose to do even matter?" she asked. "I mean, Morgoth is very likely done toying with me. And in case you haven't noticed, there is very little harm I could do to elves even if I wanted to." Glorfindel raised a dubious brow, which prompted Irony to add, "I won't use Legolas to have my way. I promise."

Laughing, the Balrog Slayer wrapped an arm around her and pulled into a hug, careful to not get his hair caught up in between them. "No one is ever safe from you, it seems." He hold on her tightened. "In truth it is a more imminent danger I worry about." He pulled away slightly. "Still, like I already told you, I cannot go into details, so please, accept this as an explanation: you are not supposed to take part in what is coming." The serious look he was bearing was making Irony uneasy. "But since you..." He hesitated. "But Legolas is supposed to take part in it." Irony shivered. This was oddly reminding her of what the fortune teller had told Legolas. "Everything that may have happened in the future, may no longer happen the way it would have happened if you crossed path with him." Now Irony was confused.

Glorfindel sighed. "In other words, the future was uncertain, and you mingling among elves have probably made it even more uncertain that it was. And that may be a terrible thing."

"That's a lot of 'may' and uncertainty." she argued. "And if I understood anything out of all those probabilities, it's that nothing was certain to begin with. So I don't see how adding uncertainty to uncertainty could have changed anything. Besides, for all we know, maybe, my presence will change the future for the better, and not for the worst." Somehow she doubted that. "But more importantly...why-how do you know what will happen next? the future?"

The Vanya only stared at her in silence. "I would rather be too cautious than not enough." he finally said, ignoring her questions.

"So leaving or staying really isn't my choice is it?" She leaned back against the piled pillows. Staring at the walls she wondered what secrets was Glorfindel holding.

"But It is." he insisted.

"How so?!" she half yelled back. "You're telling me that staying here will bring some- some bad shit to-... To I don't even know who exactly, and that Legolas will _somehow_ be caught up in the middle of all that. So from where I'm standing, you're not actually giving me any choice."

The Vanya cursed under his breath. He seemed to be annoyed by his inability to explain things properly. Still wondering why he knew so much about the future, Irony remembered he had told her that he was different from the other elves before, but she was only really beginning to grasp what he had meant by that now. For some reason, he knew more than everybody else did about probably everything. That must have been what he had meant when he had said that he could sometimes 'sense' things, and people. Still, Irony doubted that it was intuition only that guided him.

"We may not be able to identify the consequences that your choice will have. Therefore, the choice is free of guilt, and yours to make. Technically." he elf-splained in that very senseless meaningful elven manner of speaking. _They speak so many languages and still, they do not communicate efficiently in any of them, _she thought.

"And yet, 'technically', if I go-

"Go to Rivendel?" asked Legolas none too happily as he slammed the door closed behind him. "_I thought I had warned you against speaking of your nonsense and prophesies to her._" he spat to Glorfindel in sindarin, making himself taller. "_You would do well to remember that I could have you banned from here."_

"_You hold no authority over me._" Glorfindel said, remaining calm as ever. Irony wondered how their relationship could have gotten worse. She had thought that they would have bonded over having seen a Valar, or at least been content to ignore each other after that. She had been so wrong...

"_Greenwood is your father's kingdom for he recognises better friends from foes._"

The prince growled lowly, seemingly not ready to swallow his pride just yet. Glorfindel may have been seated, but it was apparent that he was ready in case Legolas let his temper take the better of him.

"I am _so_ tired of you two bickering over which one of you can or cannot make decisions in my stead." whispered Irony. She knew the elves had heard her. She turned to Glorfindel. "I am not a child," she turned to Legolas. "And I am not your toy." she told him. "I do want to leave this castle, and I eventually will," The prince gasped then scowled. "But for now, I am fine, right here." That, she had directed to the Balrog Slayer. "Anything else you'd like to add?" Both elves shook their heads. "I was awaiting apologies for your childish behaviour, not sad heads shaking." she insisted. Both of them began muttering unintelligible sounds all the while looking at the floor. If they had not been interrupted by some soldier knocking on the left opened door, Irony would have forced a real apology out of their mouths.

"_I am sorry to intrude_."he started, "_Lord Glorfindel, the company is ready, and awaiting your order to depart_."

"_Thank you. I shall be there shortly._" replied the vanya. The soldier bowed and swiftly left the room. Glorfindel stood. "I guess it is time then." he told Irony, doing his best attempt at a happy smile but failing miserably. "I shall miss your company greatly. But I am hoping you will write to me often."

"I will." she confirmed. They stared awkwardly at each other for a second before Irony sighed loudly and lunged for ward to hug the giant as tightly as she could. Once he would be gone she would no longer have any friend here. She'd be all alone again while Legolas would be kept busy with estate affairs and spiders. "Shit, I hate to see you go." she croaked. The prince's face paled, but he did not interfere.

Glorfindel only laughed that loud and warm laughter of his. "Rivendel is only three weeks away, if you wish to visit."

"I will. Soon. I promise." she assured him. Already wondering how much negotiating it would take to convince both the King and his son to let her leave for a while. Legolas would probably accompany with her.

"I should go now." said Glorfindel as he pulled the human off him. Unexpectedly, he kissed her forehead. And Irony felt him freeze and shiver, as if he had had bad feeling creeping down his spine. But before she could question him about it, he spoke again.

"Farewell."

* * *

**A/N:** I am SO sorry I didn't update sooner, but yeah..life just got in the way x) Anyway here is another chapter! I keep saying it is the last one, but that last chapter keep being stretched and stretched and stretched *sighs* that last chapter is damn hard to write, but hey, it's coming up!

I hope you enjoyed reading this one ^^


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